


Everything We Could Have Been (All That We Once Were)

by etherimaginary



Category: GOT7, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: And everyone is whipped for Jimin, Angst, Character Death, Fluff, Got7 is only in a few chapters so if you're only here for got7 don't bother reading, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Romance if you squint, Suga is whipped for hobi, Violence, What else is new, Zombie Apocalypse, namjoon is whipped for jin, read ch1 notes for tag specifics, this fic will hurt just warning ya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-03 10:34:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 57,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16324601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etherimaginary/pseuds/etherimaginary
Summary: In which Taehyung is a zombie apocalypse survivor, he meets a soldier and a scientist trying to save the country, and things, inevitably, happen.





	1. Night & Day

**Author's Note:**

> WHAT'S UP BITCHES ITS ME I'M BACK FROM THE DEAD  
> and YES that was 100% an on purpose pun because ZOMBIE!AU IS FINALLY HERE!!!!! AFTER A WHOLE ASS YEAR!!!
> 
> This whole entire bitch of a fic was inspired by an offhand comment my sister made while we were watching train to Busan. I can't say the comment now because it'll spoil something later in the fic but I'll let you know when we get to that chapter. Lul
> 
> I actually haven't finished writing it but I figure if I post once a week I'll have enough time to finish the last few chapters (hopefully; ya'll know how this bitch [me] can be when it comes to writing consistently).
> 
> ANYWAYS I'm super excited for this but I should probably address a few things first regarding the tags.  
> 1)This is rated M for violence, language, etc but there is NO actual smut in it so if you're here for smut sorry to disappoint.  
> 2)There IS an implied rape/dubcon later in the fic but I DON'T write it out explicitly.  
> 3) While there are definitely some cutesy scenes in this, this is not a romance centric fic!! Sope is really the only actual established couple. BUT!! Don't let that discourage you!! There's plenty of soft scenes of friendship and mayhaps the beginnings of something more winkwonk.  
> 4)Lengthwise, I'm guessing this fic will be around 50k. Its at 43k right now and I still have a few chapters left. Who knows, maybe this will dethrone 'If Only For Tonight' and claim the title of longest piece I've ever written. Probably not lol  
> 5) This is a ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE. So expect violence, death, sacrifice, betrayal, the whole shebang  
> 6) Any more questions PLEASE send my way via twitter (etherimaginary) and while you're there go to my paypal and help a bitch out. Lol I'm kidding ~~no I'm not I'm trying to save up for racing leathers next year hnnngh~~  
>  7) As always, I love knowing what you guys think of my work and comments are always appreciated uwu  
> 8) I did a quick once over on this first chapter but since I wrote it so long ago I cringe reading it so apologies for any mistakes  
> 9) Forgive me for this

Taehyung stalked the rows of the market silently, squinting against the dim light that his flashlight provided. His progress was slow, having to navigate the toppled shelves and building wreckage without the slightest sound. Some fire had destroyed part of the building, the blackened walls crumbled away to reveal the now empty pipes behind them. The structure had been weakened, and as such partly collapsed on itself so that some shelves were buried under the rubble and others leaned against each other precariously. 

He could see the store lightening ever so slowly, the encroaching dawn preparing to postpone his hunt. He always scavenged at night; the two months since _They_ appeared had taught him that it was safest at night. The Hungries. They couldn’t see well in the dark. He had learned that while ransacking a small storage room in the back of a convenience store. Too late, he realized he was not alone in the store, and his then-clumsy and loud movements had attracted the attention of the other. The Hungry had attacked him in the small space, shoving him against a wall and gnashing its teeth inches from his face. In his alarm, Taehyung had dropped his flashlight, plunging the small space into near darkness. The thing paused, still pushing closer to Taehyung but no longer with the fever it once had, as if it was now unsure of his presence. Taehyung had shoved it off and it stumbled back, the creature letting out a low moan but not closing the distance between them. Through what remained of its nose, it inhaled deeply, but Taehyung had already known that they couldn’t smell well either, and his scent was all over the room by that point. 

He was convinced it would find him, hear the sound of his pounding heart, his heavy breaths muffled behind his hand, the rustle of clothes as he bent down slowly, _slowly_ , to pick up his flashlight. It did nothing, just stood there in stupor. One deep breath was all Taehyung had allowed himself before he rushed out of the room, pushing past the Hungry that reached out at him with broken fingers, stumbling forward a step or two before Taehyung had slammed the door behind him, collapsing onto his knees to catch his breath and wipe the budding tears from his eyes. It could have been worse. There could have been more, he could have noticed the approaching figure a second too late, there could have been a window. These scenarios played over and over in his mind until they wrecked him, and he spent the remainder of the night shaking against the door, listening to the grunts of the creature and the sounds of its bones scratching against the door in the absence of nails. 

But that was before. That was when it was all new to him, when the mere sight of one of them would leave Taehyung shaking, let alone an attack. He was practiced now, fluent and efficient in the way he slipped among the shelves and emptied food wrappers. It was a small store, and he planned on finishing it before the sun rose with enough time to get back to his camp. The last isle was blocked with the better half of a fallen shelf, too heavy to move and the wall, which had likely caused its topple, preventing him from climbing over. Part of it was crumbled away, and Taehyung peeked through the hole to scan the shelves. A few forgotten cans glinted back at him; a treasure that he knew better than to pass by. A quick scan of the area assured him that there was no way to get to them except to crawl under the fallen wall. 

He kneeled, looking under to see if it would be possible. There was enough space, just so, and he would only half to crawl about the length of his body before he reached the other side. There were risks, yes, but also rewards, and one pop of the head outside to make sure nothing was approaching was all he needed before he stripped off his backpack and lowered himself to the floor. He pulled himself forward, the tile mercifully smooth, grunting as he felt the drywall skim against his back. The floor was cool, and he rested for a moment, letting his face press against it and reveling in its chill while he caught his breath.

Through this pause he was able to hear the sound of footsteps. Taehyung froze, eyes wide in the darkness. He shifted to look down at himself; he could see his legs still sticking out from the shelf, but not much more. He swore softly, cursing his decision to take a risk such as this just for a few cans of food. He figured if he could at least get his whole body under the shelf they would pass by without even noticing him, so he wiggled forward, his breath fogging slightly on the floor beneath him. He made sure his efforts were shushed, but even so he could no longer hear the footsteps or tell how close they were. 

The top of his head had nearly breached the other side of the shelf when a hand grabbed his ankle, pulling him back. Taehyung bit down a scream- the last thing he needed was to draw _more_ of the dead to him- and kicked out with his free leg, his boot connecting with the hand. It withdrew, freeing him for a moment, but then returned, three more joining and pulling more of him out from the safety of the shelf. He clawed at the ground, hands hoping for purchase, anything to hold onto, in vain. The tile squeaked against his fingertips as he was dragged backwards, until he was once more on the floor in front of the shelf. 

He waited for the pain, the sensation of teeth sinking into his skin, but none came. Instead, one of the hands around his legs released to slink under his torso, pushing him over onto his back. He felt a weight on his chest and looked down to see a boot pressing against his shirt, pinning him to the ground. His eyes drew upwards, scanning over a leg, torso, finally settling on the gun that was pointed at his face. His throat felt sticky as he swallowed, suddenly deciding that he would have preferred having to fight off a Hungry than a very much alive human with a gun. Taehyung didn’t have a gun; his best weapon was a hunting knife he had found on the floor of an outdoor sports store. Said knife was attached securely to his hip, but Taehyung didn’t dare try to reach for it, hoping that the man would take only his backpack and spare him his life.

“Is he infected?” The man’s voice was gruff and not directed at Taehyung, causing him to look toward the owner of the other set of hands that had helped pull him out. They belonged to a far less imposing man, a kinder yet more calculating gaze drawing over his body.

“I- I’m alive!” Taehyung’s voice was nothing more than a croak, fear and the boot still pressing against his rib cage preventing most noise from coming out. 

“Shut up,” the man growled, pressing harder on Taehyung’s chest, which was rewarded with a cough from the other, “Jin?”

“He looks fine to me.” The softer man came closer prodding at Taehyung’s face with cautious hands. His fingers gently pulled at Taehyung’s eyelids and pulled his lips back to reveal his tongue. Taehyung allowed it to happen without so much as a whimper, confused and rattled. “Mm, I think he’s good. He’s showing no signs, and his hands look fine.”

“What were you doing under that shelf?” The first man questioned, tearing Taehyung’s eyes away from the soft man and back up to the gun that had yet to be removed from his face.

“There’s food on the other side.” Taehyung wasn’t quite sure how he was still able to manage words. “I was just trying to get it.”

The man nodded, and a moment later the weight on his chest was removed, the gun holstered. A hand replaced it, one that Taehyung took and allowed to pull him to his feet. He brushed the dust off of Taehyung, patting him on the back lightly. “Hey, I didn’t mean to scare you there. Just can’t be too careful, you know?”

Taehyung nodded slowly, still unsure as how to act towards these strangers. The soft one laughed, punching the other lightly. “Lord, Namjoon, look at him. He’s shaking. You’re too aggresive sometimes.”

The man, Namjoon, grunted, stooping down to grab Taehyung’s bag and hand it to him. “I have to be, you know that.”

“Still,” The softer one, Jin, tutted at him, “Look at him, he’s just a kid.”

The only reply was a shrug before Namjoon turned to Taehyung, his gaze kinder but still wary. “Are you alone out here?” Taehyung nodded his response. “Just… existing? Scavenging?” Another nod. Namjoon seemed to pause, glancing over at Jin briefly, who smiled and nodded back at him. “Okay, listen, kid. This man here is a scientist. He has the… cure to these things, and I need to get him to a lab in Incheon so they can replicate it and spread it across the country.” Taehyung stayed silent as Namjoon spoke, his mouth falling open slightly. A cure, by this point, seemed like salvation, too good to be true. “If you want to join us, you’re welcome to.”

“Of course!” Taehyung cut off the end of Namjoon’s sentence excitedly. The thought that he could help, that he could do more than survive, was too good to give up, not to mention that he craved human presence, having been without it for so long.

“Just keep in mind,” Namjoon warned, his voice dropping to a serious tone, “Jin must be protected at all costs.” Taehyung nodded eagerly, trying and failing to keep the smile from his face. “We travel at night and we travel fast. If you can’t keep up, you get left behind.”

It made sense enough, and Taehyung wasn’t exactly in a position to disagree anyways. Together they finished raiding the store, Namjoon and Jin keeping guard this time while Taehyung shuffled under the fallen shelf to retrieve the cans of food. The oncoming dawn hasted their progress, the sun just beginning to peak over the horizon as Taehyung lead them to where he had been staying the past week. Food shortages caused everyone to be nomads, but travelling alone meant that every new place usually had enough food to sustain him for a week or two. They climbed to the top floor of a squat abandoned apartment complex, using what Jin described as an ‘unsettlingly’ broken staircase, to which Taehyung reasoned that the Hungries couldn’t climb stairs well to begin with, let alone half decayed ones. Taehyung had already checked every room that was unlocked to make sure he would be alone on the floor, and lead them with confidence to his room of choice at the end of the hall that faced away from the rising sun. They sat together, sharing a meager meal of cans of tuna while they uncoiled before they slept.

“So,” Taehyung began, digging into his own can and eyeing Jin with curiosity, “Since you’re the science man, tell me; why can’t the Hungries can’t see in the dark. Do their eyes rot first or something?”

Jin didn’t looked startled at all by the question. If anything, he looked confident in his ability to answer, and Taehyung wondered just how closely he had studied these creatures. “Well, to simplify it, it’s a virus, the ADRI virus, that makes them the way they are. It was named after the girl that it first infected. Patient zero. Doesn’t really matter now, I suppose. All viruses, as you know, have one goal; to reproduce and spread as far as they can. However, most viruses get detected by the body and destroyed. The ADRI virus prevents that by shutting down the body and restarting only the parts that it needs to spread itself. It takes control of the body, so to speak, rewires it to fit it’s needs. The virus is based in the central part of the brain, the brain stem, and blocks any memories and reasoning. It keeps the primal instincts alive, namely hunger, and this focus takes away from the occipital lobes and olfactory complexes, as they are further from the center, so they can’t see or smell as well as we can. Even hearing is affected, though not to the same extent.”

“Oh.” Taehyung paused, replaying and pulling apart the words in his head until they made sense. “So can they taste? Can they feel?”

Jin hummed over his mouthful of tuna, cocking his head slightly. “We didn’t get to study that far. If they do have the sense of touch, its overpowered by their need to eat, which is why you can dismember a Unit and they will still try to come after you.” He shook his head, disgust played across his features. “No, the only way to stop them is to destroy the brain. Even the decapitated head of a Unit will still try to bite you.”

“Damn things are hard enough to kill, that’s for sure,” Namjoon sneered, having already finished his ‘meal’ and disposed of the can to the nearest corner of the room. “Jin, are you going to take first shift?”

“Yeah. I’ll wake you up after- oh, I never got your name.” Jin was looking at Taehyung with kind curiosity, Namjoon nearly mimicking the gaze but with his own sort of intrigue.  
“Taehyung.” He offered them a small smile. “I never slept on a shift before. I never had enough people to.”

“It’s safer this way,” Jin explained, turning to glance at Namjoon, who had already rolled over, his back to them. “We look out for each other, you know? We’re all we have.”

Taehyung shuffled away a few feet until he felt the wall behind him, settling onto his back to stare at the cracked ceiling. He was silent for a few minutes, listening to Namjoon breathing and Jin humming softly to himself as he read a book that he had been storing in his backpack, and the sounds were so human and so domestic that it was nearly overwhelming.

“It feels good,” he said at last, loud enough for Jin to hear but soft enough that it didn’t rouse Namjoon, who was snoring lightly.

“What does?” Jin looked up at his book in slightly surprise, likely having thought that Taehyung was already sleeping when he spoke. “Sleeping on the floor?

“Being with people. Having people looking out for you.”

Jin chuckled slightly. “Does it?”

“Yeah, it does.” And it did feel good, knowing he would wake up to people, knowing that someone out here knew his name. It felt really, really good.


	2. New Heights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKay I know I said I would only post once a week but honestly? have I ever, EVER, actually stuck to that? The answer is no. Also I wrote two more chapters and only have one maybe two left to write so I figure I'll be okay.  
> Also Also I realized how short the first chapter was and felt bad that it was all i gave you guys.  
> Also Also Also writing these final chapters makes me so IMPATIENT I just want to post it all. But I wont. I have that much control, at least.  
> Ps I went over this chapter like a few days ago but can't be assed to go into hella detail with it, again cause I wrote it so long ago *cringe* so there may be mistakes but hey that's showbiz baby  
> Pps I know first chapters are always agonizing but I swear it gets more hectic lol

Taehyung was groggy the next night, having slept in two short intervals rather than one long one, but it was negated by the energy that company brought him, the moving figures that he could call his allies. They spent the night scavenging the rest of the area around Taehyung’s camp, but for water rather than food; Taehyung had been stockpiling food and one look made Namjoon sigh appreciatively, grateful that they wouldn’t have to spend two nights idle. Water, however, was even harder to come across than food, and the stores and houses they checked were void of any, at least none that looked clean enough to drink. They did, however, find some food, and though it was always welcome it wasn’t what they were looking for.

“I don’t think we’re going about this the right way,” Taehyung admitted deep into the night, after yet another house turned up empty. “I rarely, if ever, find water in houses and stores. It’s where _everyone_ thinks to look. I only go there searching for food.”

“Then,” Namjoon growled, frustrated at their lack of progress, “where do you look for water, since you seem to be such an expert at it.”

“Places of physical labour. Mechanic shops, construction zones, anywhere where people would be drinking frequently but most people don’t even bother to search. There’s a car garage on the next street over, I say we check there, and two streets beyond that they were building a new apartment complex when the virus hit.”

To his surprise, his request was met with little resistance. Perhaps it was the sheer frustration and exhaustion they had felt thus far, the failures piling up on each other enough that they were willing to try anything. They followed Taehyung down the streets, stepping carefully and quietly; even if it was safer at night, the city was never truly safe, never truly asleep. Twice they had to freeze on the street as a Hungry stumbled into view, Namjoon breaking away to sneak up behind it and drive his knife into its skull. It thus took longer than expected just to get to the first stop of the night, but as it came into view, Taehyung couldn’t help but feel proud. Water or not, he had lead them through the night, in the direction of his choosing.

The initial wave of infection had hit fast and hard, and as such most places had been abandoned without so much as a thought towards locking the doors. The shop proved to be no different, and they slipped into the building easily, a single flashlight illuminating the space. A quick scan through the cavernous space turned up empty of anyone alive or dead, and Taehyung lead them through the thick darkness to the most obvious spots for water; offices, workbenches, and the like.

“Anything?” Jin’s voice was hopeful, but it was a false hope, one that Taehyung knew was for his benefit alone. Neither man answered him, but their silence spoke for them, and the despair and desperation their non-words carried was hollowing.

“Taehyung, help me lift this cabinet,” was what Namjoon said instead, gesturing to a fallen metal tool shelf, most of its contents spilled out on the concrete below it. Even so, an egregious clanging of metal sounded from within as it was disturbed from its spot and set back upright, revealing a mini fridge nestled against the office desk. Namjoon and Taehyung eyed each other for a moment, both hopeful but neither allowing themselves to show it. Namjoon was the one to finally move, stooping to pull open the fridge. He drew back immediately, coughing into his elbow. 

“Fuck, someone left their lunch in here.” He gestured for Taehyung to pass the flashlight and shone it to reveal the full contents of the fridge. He froze, blinking, for just a moment, and then was standing to wrap an arm around Taehyung, patting him on the back and ruffling his hair. “My man.”

Taehyung squirmed out of his grasp to look in the fridge for himself, beaming at what greeted him. There was, in fact, a rotting lunch, some sort of unidentifiable sandwich and fruit, but there was also a half empty case of water bottles, long forgotten nestled against the back of the fridge. Taehyung reached into the space to retrieve them, waving them in the air for Jin to see, who had come over after being alerted at the fuss they were making. He wasn’t sure why exactly they were so joyful at the find, twelve water bottles could only sustain the three of them for so long, but Taehyung didn’t dawdle in the thought, rather just enjoying the small successes. After all, they were often all you would get these days. 

“Do we have time to check out the construction site?” Jin questioned as they existed the shop after making sure there weren’t any other hidden fridges lying about. Both Taehyung and Namjoon looked up at the sky, the lightening colour making Taehyung uneasy. It was funny; he used to be scared of the dark, of walking alone at night time, but now he reveled in it. He existed in the night, lived in it, thrived in it, and it was the day time, the light, that was to be feared. After all, it was hard to be scared of the dark when it was often the only thing keeping you alive. 

“We’ll have to move fast.” Namjoon shot them a worried look as he spoke. “I don’t want to waste another day scavenging, so we either go now or we don’t go at all. Taehyung?”

“Uh.” Taehyung looked between the two of them, realizing they were putting the decision on his shoulders. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Had he been by himself, he wouldn’t have risked the journey, but the adrenaline from his previous find was still rushing through him, prodding him to make rash decisions. He began to lead them in the direction of the site, their pace much swifter than before and each one flinching at any little sound.

They had nearly reached their destination when Jin spoke, his words carrying softly to Taehyung’s ears. “So why do you know this place so well? Did you live here before… before?”

“I actually grew up in the countryside.” Taehyung kept his eyes ahead of him as he spoke, not brave enough to look back at their faces. “But I left when I was eighteen and spent the past few years on these streets.”

“Really?” There was astonishment in Jin’s words, an innocent curiosity that nearly begged Taehyung to continue. “You preferred living on the streets to living at home, with your family?”

“Yeah.” Taehyung chuckled slightly, a sad, unseen smile twitching on his lips though bitterness laced his voice. “The streets were rough, but they treated me better. I figured it couldn’t get any worse than… home. I can’t even call it that.”

“Oh.” The realization hit Jin a moment too late, and the trio fell into the uneasy, pitiful silence that Taehyung had always despised whenever people were informed about his past. “I’m sorry.”

Taehyung waved him off with a hand through the air. “It payed off, in the end. It helped me survive.”

The rest of the walk was void of any conversation, though Taehyung could hear Jin and Namjoon whispering quietly to themselves on and off. Abandoned cranes stretched overhead as they arrived, the silent machinery and skeletal figure of the half built complex haunting in the half light. Taehyung crept across the dirt, navigating piles of tools and wood, metal beams left to rust under the mercy of the elements. His search, however, turned up empty, and one quick glance at Namjoon and Jin proved that they too had not found anything. He was about to call off the search, growing more and more uneasy in the early morning light, when a sparkle caught his eye, so faint that he would have missed it had the sun been any slower in its ascent. He turned, squinting his eyes and inching closer to see what had caught his attention. It was the metal box of a first aid kit, well-loved but otherwise undisturbed and in relatively good condition. It sat beside a pile of wooden beams, their disarray implying that they had not been placed there but more likely the messy remains of one of the pallets of wood support beams stacked around the area. Taehyung spared one last glance over his shoulder before approaching the box; medical supplied were few and far in between, and there was no telling when one would need disinfectant and gauze and whatever else construction first aid kits contained. 

Taehyung should have trusted his instincts as he approached the box. There was a sense of wrongness in the air, a small cry somewhere in his subconscious that told him to walk the other way. He had brushed it off as the nerves that walking around in daylight brought him, but as he reached out to grab the box and a rotted, blackened hand shot out from underneath the pile of wooden beams and latched onto his wrist, he had the sudden realization that he had known the whole time that this area wasn’t safe. Maybe not consciously, but there had at been some part of him that he had ignored, some tiny suggestion of fight or flight, and it had been right all along.

Despite the fact that he knew better, despite him living for so long with the Hungries, he instinctively yelled out at the touch, the sensation of nails digging into his skin, threatening to break through. He heard Namjoon call his name, thought to himself that it was a stupid thing to do, and jerked his arm away, a wet black smudge of decaying flesh remaining on his arm. Biting down a gag as he stumbled backwards, he quickly wiped the rot away with his sleeve, stumbling back as another Hungry lurched into view from behind a pile of gravel.

A hand on his shoulder nearly made him cry out again, but Namjoon threw a hand over his mouth before he could, dragging him backwards. “What the fuck, Taehyung?”

Rather than answering or trying to explain himself, Taehyung searched fervently for a way out, an empty escape route that they could take and get back to higher ground. He could hear the dead, their groans echoing through the air, attracted by the noise and lumbering- or crawling if they were missing their legs- towards the trio. Taehyung could hear Namjoon curse again, this time in realization, and pull out his gun just as his eyes landed on the metal webbed base of a machine. Grabbing Namjoon in one hand and Jin in the other, he pulled them towards it, calling out “Crane!” at their surprised and confused yelps. The message was received quick enough and in a matter of seconds he went from dragging them to following them, his chest heaving as he tried to keep up with their pace. He never was much of an athlete. 

Namjoon stopped at the base of the crane, allowing Jin to climb up first and unloading a bullet into the skull of a Hungry that drew too close. The bang echoed over the already present sea of groans, which increased in volume in response to the sound. Taehyung was next, scrambling to grab hold of the network of crisscrossing metal beams that made up the neck of the crane. He felt a hand grab hold of his leg, but another bang erupted through the air and a moment later the pressure fell away. Looking up, he could see Jin staring down at them, stopped three quarters of the way up. He was saying something, but Taehyung couldn’t hear it, couldn’t hear anything over the sounds of his own heart and the endless hungry moans reverberating in his ears. He spared half a glance downwards to make sure Namjoon was following and hadn’t succumbed to the numbers swarming around the base of the crane. Some had managed to climb onto the cab of the machine, but their lack of coordination and dexterity, not to mention the decay of their hands, meant that they only managed a single handhold before they fell back to the ground. 

Panting, Taehyung waited with Jin at the top of the crane, watching Namjoon climb the distance separating them. When he arrived, Taehyung looked between the two of them, then back down to the writhing mass of bodies beneath them, reaching for them, their teeth gnashing on empty air. It made him sick. “What do we do?” 

Jin’s eyes were not on him but rather the arm of the crane, stretching parallel to the ground and what Taehyung guessed was forty meters outward from their position. It ended perhaps a meter from the scaffolding, close enough to jump across but far enough that Taehyung didn’t want to. He looked towards Jin for confirmation that they were thinking the same thing, then towards Namjoon only to find him clutching onto the crane with white knuckles, eyes squeezed tightly together.

“Namjoon,” Jin probed lightly, one hand resting gently on his arm as if to calm a spooked horse, “We need to go across.”

“Fuck that.” Namjoon’s voice was a growl, his hands twisting tighter onto the metal. “I’ll stay here and climb down once its dark again.”

“You need to sleep.” Jin’s gaze caught with Taehyungs, a small plead held within them. “And staying up here longer will just stress you out more. It’s just a little walk, a little jump, and then you’re back on solid ground again.”

“No way. No fucking way.” The words were spat through clenched teeth, Namjoon’s jaw flexing as a gust of wind blew over them.

“Hold on,” Taehyung mused, piecing together the clues amusedly, “you’re scared of _heights_? Of all things…” He didn’t finish his sentence, snorting at the glare Namjoon sent his way.

Namjoon opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say a word Jin interrupted, a false sense of nonchalance in his voice. “Fine, fine. Stay here all day if you want to, but Taehyung and I are crossing over and sleeping. Though, there’s no telling whether or not there are already some Units over there. I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

“Oh, fuck you both.” There was an uncertainty in Namjoon’s voice now though, a slight hesitation that lengthened as Jin began to shuffle alone one side of the arm, his hands sliding long the top beam for support. It was designed as a triangle, so aside from the precarious height, it was surprisingly easy to sidestep along the arm. Taehyung followed soon after, shooting Namjoon one last pitying glance. He was suddenly glad for the growing light; it allowed him to see where he was putting his foot better, and to keep an eye on Namjoon. The man looked distressed, to say in the least, gaze flicking from the retreating pair to the long drop below him that ended in a mass of rotting bodies. 

“Just don’t look down!” Taehyung called, the noise causing an uprising of moans from below. He paused about half way across, beckoning Namjoon with a hand while Jin shimmied the rest of the way, jumping across the small gap easily onto the exposed wood panels of the apartment’s floor. Namjoon, seeing Jin safe on the other side, let out one last ‘fuck’ and slid onto the arm, clutching the top beam with shaking hands.

His progress was slow, painfully so, but Taehyung waited without a word at the center of the arm, calling encouraging words whenever Namjoon paused, uncertain. The sun had just peaked over the tops of the buildings when he met at Taehyung’s position, and it was there that his quick pants and pale complexion were evident. Taehyung didn’t like the sight of it, nervous that Namjoon would just faint at any moment, so he began to move a bit faster, though not enough that he was ever at risk of slipping.

By the time the two had arrived at the end of the arm, a sheen of sweat covered Namjoon’s face, and they had to stop often to allow him to wipe his hands off to preserve his grip. The gap between the end was smaller than it had first appeared, and the floor a foot or two lower than the crane itself. It was an easy jump, but Taehyung watched Namjoon carefully, gauging his reaction for a moment before turning back to the building.

One small step, a fraction of a second of freefall, and then Taehyung’s feet felt the ground beneath him, a small thud sounding at his success. He didn’t even have time to turn before a louder thump sounded to his right, Namjoon having thrown himself off the crane the moment Taehyung’s feet touched the ground. His legs did not hold him, and he collapsed to his hands and knees, breaths deep but not yet even.

“See? Not so bad. Let’s search the floor before we sleep, yeah?” There was a certain smugness in Jin’s voice, one that Namjoon showed no reaction to, other than a grunt as he threw himself onto the floor and proceeding to move no further. Jin turned to Taehyung with a smile on his face, shrugging slightly. “Well, I guess it’s up to us!”

Taehyung shook his head, shoving Jin towards the unmoving body of Namjoon gently. “I’ll do it. It’s already late, and besides, I never thought there would be Hungries up here anyways.”

Jin chuckled slightly, nodding in agreement. “Me neither. Wake me up in a few.”

“Will do.”


	3. Of Caviar and Cream of Mushroom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I only have like one more chapter to write its LIT.  
> Reading the characters in these early chapters compared to how they are at the end is so funny like damn yall aint even the same people I guess thats what fifty thousand words does to people oh well. Yes you heard that right I broke 50k Wooooooo. I'm half considering just making my last chapter 5k words because I relly want to break my record lmao and also the last few chapters Ive written have been honestly super short so I wouldnt mind going out with a bang. ANYWAYS  
> enjoy this luvs come get yall juice.

All three of them were inarguably tired and slightly grumpy the next night, the previous day’s exasperations and late start to sleeping draining the usual pep from their step. The Hungries had dissipated slightly throughout the day, perhaps distracted by a stray cat or mouse, and the ones that remained didn’t even register their presence as they snuck out of the building and into the night. Taehyung was ready to move on from the city, and a quick stop to gather the supplies at his camp was all they needed before they began headed in the direction of the city border. They took the main streets but stayed to the side, not wanting to draw attention from anything dwelling in the shadows, be it living or dead.

Taehyung could see the sign informing them they were about to leave the city when Namjoon paused, cocking his head slightly. “Do you hear that?”

Taehyung listened, but heard nothing. “No?”

“There was a sound.”

“What kind of sound?”

“A yell.”

Jin snorted. “Are you sure it wasn’t your stomach?”

Namjoon shot him a glance. “Yes I’m- there it is again! Did you not hear it?”

“I heard it this time.” Taehyung’s eyes raked over the horizon as he spoke, trying to identify where the sound was coming from and if they should be heading the other way. 

“There!” He could see a moving figure coming towards them from deeper into the city. The way it was running, let alone the fact that its arms were waving above its head in an effort to gain their attention, suggested it was human, but nowadays even humans were dangerous. 

Spotting the figure, Namjoon drew his gun, pointing it as he began walking towards the man. When they got close enough, Namjoon halted, gesturing for the man to do the same. “Stop where you are.”

The man skidded to a stop, panting as he took in the three of them. “I’m not going to hurt you!” The volume of his voice made all three of them flinch, knowing the implications that the luxury of noise brought.

Taehyung scoffed, his face twisting into a mixture of disbelief and scorn. “This fucking idiot. What is he doing, yelling in the middle of the city? Does he want to get swarmed?”

“Language,” Jin chided, crossing his arms and watching Namjoon with unease.

“Shut the fuck up.” Namjoon’s voice had the same tone that had first greeted Taehyung, a slight growl on the edge of the syllables. “Are you trying to attract every Unit in this city?”

Now that the man had come close, Taehyung could see the clothes he donned, and the sight planted a bitter seed of contempt in the pit of his stomach. His clothes were only slightly torn, though no blood stained them like it did most survivors’. Taehyung could see the familiar logos of designer brands plastered on every piece of the boy’s attire, even down to his duffle bag and backpack, which was pulled from his back and placed on the ground at Namjoon’s order.

The hostile greeting did not go unnoticed by the newcomer, and his mouth dropped slightly, as if he could scarcely believe the treatment he was receiving by this band of strangers. “You’re pointing a gun at me?” He pointed to his face as he spoke, anger forming on his features. “Do you know who I am? I am Jeon Jungkook! My father is the CEO of Yeobo Manufacturing! You should be protecting me!”

Taehyung groaned, loud enough to draw Jin’s attention towards him for a brief moment, the curiosity on his face prompting an explanation for his outburst. “I know his type; the type that gave me dirty looks when they passed by me on the street, worried I might scuff up their thousand-dollar shoes. The fucking pompous, stuffy brats that have silver spoons shoved up their ass.” He ignored Jin’s scold about his language again, turning his attention to Namjoon, who was beginning to question the stranger. “He’s just going to leech off of us, Namjoon. Let’s leave him here.”

“We most certainly will not!” Jin shot Taehyung a harsh glance. “Look at him. He’s helpless.”

“Good.” Taehyung rolled his eyes, realizing too late that Jin wouldn’t see it anyways and returning to glaring in the direction of Jungkook. “Let him see for himself how it feels for once in his life.”

“Both of you shut up.” Namjoon glanced back at them, irritated. “Jungkook, where have you been staying until now and who were you with?”

Jungkook shook his head at the question. “When the rots appeared, my father had one of our warehouses evacuated for me, and I’ve been staying there until now. But I’m almost out of food. I just have these two bags.”

“This guy can’t be serious?” Taehyung couldn’t stand it a second longer. Ignoring Jin’s protests, he walked up to Namjoon, placing a hand on his shoulder and shaking him slightly. “Namjoon, are you hearing this? He _forced people out into the streets_. They’re probably dead now, and for what? So the little prince could have the space and the food all to himself? Don’t let him come with us.”

“Please take me with you!” Jungkook called, again too loudly. He gathered his bags, risking a few steps forward. “I’ll die on my own.”

“Namjoon.” Taehyung spoke lowly, his lips close to Namjoon’s ear. “He’ll slow us down.”

There was a moment of silence in which all eyes were on Namjoon, waiting for him to decide. At last, he sighed, letting his arms drop and holstering his gun. “Come on then.”

“No!” Taehyung’s jaw dropped, eyes flicking from Namjoon to Jin, who had a smug look on his face, to Jungkook, who repositioned his backpack and jogged the rest of the way towards them with a bright smile on his face. “This is a bad idea. You need to reconsi-”

His sentence was cut off as Namjoon spun quickly to face him, hand fisting in his shirt and pulling him close. “He’s coming with us, and that is my final decision.” His voice was low, powerful. “None of us are the same people that we were before the uprising. We cannot discriminate like that. Who would we be if we turned him away when we just accepted you? We know nothing about either of you. Remember Taehyung; we are trying to preserve humanity, not throw it away.”

Slight shame burned in Taehyung’s cheeks at the scolding, embarrassed that it had to happen in front of Jungkook and Jin. Namjoon gave him one last warning look before he let go, turning without another word. 

“We should hurry.” Jin looked over the three of them with worry, his eyes drawing to the dark shadows cast by the buildings of the city. “I think I hear Units approaching.”

“Probably heard this idiot screaming his balls off.” Taehyung shied away as Jungkook caught up with him, positioning himself at the other side of the group. “Not that he had any to begin with.” He could tell Jungkook was panting with the weight of the food he had brought but did not offer any assistance, even if his own backpack was relatively light. Jungkook said nothing at his jab but sent Taehyung a short glance, looking away just as quickly when he was greeted with a fiery glare.

“It will take about a week to get to Gwangju,” Namjoon began pointedly, his voice slightly strained, “Today and tomorrow will be spent walking towards and raiding Changwon, and we will make one more stop in Suncheon to replenish our supplies on the way.”

Jin rustled in his bag for a second before pulling out a large folded map, which he promptly handed over to Namjoon. “Mm, if we walk North-West rather than straight West we can save time by not having to travel through the thickest part of the mountain range.”

As Jin and Namjoon’s conversation about what route to take faded into white noise, Taehyung couldn’t help but sneak hateful glances towards Jungkook, who had thus far remained silent and kept his eyes on the ground in front of him. His privilege, his lack of sacrifice, sat hot and bitter on Taehyung’s tongue. The more he thought about it, the greater his resentment grew, a spark nursed on loathing and bias grown into the fueled flame of animosity that consumed him. 

Once the discussion on which route was settled, the four of them fell into an unnatural silence, too tired, angry, or scared to break it. The rest of the way was walked in this quiet, until the long stretch of road became interrupted with buildings and warehouses and the sporadic clusters of houses were behind them. Taehyung could see the silhouettes of the mountains cutting across the sky and blocking out the stars that strayed too close to the horizon. It would be a difficult trek, but safer, he assumed, and shorter than going around. 

They set up camp in one of the many large buildings stretched lazily over the grounds, nestled in a cradle of forest that continued further up the mountain. The inside was surprisingly intact, frozen in time and unaware of the carnage that had happened outside the concrete walls. Unidentifiable electronic parts were stacked on shelves and in boxes, still waiting on their pallets to be shipped out to whomever needed them. It seemed too quiet in the warehouse, too surreal. As Namjoon did a quick perimeter check, Jin helped the others pick a place to settle in for the night, deciding on the catwalks that were nestled near the top of the building and lead to a locked door. The chances of anything wandering into the building while they slept were small, but at this point there was no such thing as too safe, even if the catwalks were less than comfortable to sleep on. Namjoon joined them shortly after, his footsteps on the louder echoing in the quiet space. As they settled in somewhat of a circle, Jungkook offered up his bag for inspection, Jin taking it with a small thank you.

“Did you pack this yourself?” he questioned as he rifled through the contents of the bag, curiosity and amusement playing across his features. 

“My dad provided the food, and I just shoved whatever was left into the bag.” Taehyung snorted at Jungkook’s response, but nobody seemed to notice the sound. “I know, there’s weird stuff. I think he was expecting me to have a chef cook me meals or something.” He laughed weakly.

“I was gonna say,” Jin pulled out a bottle from the mess, studying it, “I never would have considered bringing olive oil and” he reached into the bag with his other hand, pulling out a can, “canned caviar? I guess you get what you can find.”

“Find?” Taehyung scoffed, taking a swig of a water bottle Namjoon offered to him, “Yeah, I’m sure he must have scavenged for days to find _caviar_. Because that’s the best type of survival food.”

For the first time, Jungkook turned to glare at Taehyung, snatching the can out of Jin’s hands. “You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to,” He quipped, digging his fingers into the slime-covered spheres with only the slightest grimace, “ _I_ will. I actually like it. I guess you need to have expensive taste to appreciate it.”

“Expensive-” Taehyung began mockingly but was interrupted when Namjoon threw an empty plastic bottle towards his head.

“Both of you shut the fuck up. I’ve had enough about whatever class war is going on between you two, and it’s only been a day.” He took a can of tuna from Jungkook’s bag and cracked it open, picking out a piece and tossing it in his mouth. “Look around you. Do you think the Units care whether you were rich or poor? Fuck no. So get over yourselves; we’re all in the same place now, whether you like it or not.”

Taehyung gave Jungkook one more glance before turning away, accepting the can of soup- cream of mushroom for fucks sake- that Jin offered. He was bitter, but not enough that he would refuse food, even if it came from Jungkook. He knew better, he knew how much of a luxury basic necessities had become. He drank the disgusting soup in silence, only grunting when Jin asked him if he was okay with the second watch. It was not ideal; it meant he would have to sleep in two parts, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He felt slightly defeated at Namjoon’s chiding, having wanted to be agreed with, to be on the same side as the man. He had, after all, been with them longer than Jungkook had, even if it was only by a day. Taehyung had helped them find water, helped Namjoon breathe through his fear of heights. Jungkook had not been around for that. Jungkook was nobody. Jungkook was _nothing_.

And that’s all he ever would be.


	4. Nibblers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MONO HAS ME BALDT YALL I HAVE NEVER IN MY LIFE HEARD SUCH A BEAUTIFUL ALBUM EVERY SONG IS A MASTERPIECE KIM NAMJOON FOR PRESIDENT OF THE WORLD 2020

Taehyung’s legs ached. His lungs burned when he breathed, drawing in bundles of air only to push it out just as quickly. His eyes drooped to the ground in front of him, not even bothering to glance sideways at Jungkook as they usually did. He felt dead on his feet, which was ironic considering that they, as Jin had hypothesized, had not yet seen any hungries in the mountains.

“Units,” Jin had explained, “are not very good at walking, as I’m sure you already know.” His voice sounded too loud against the hush of the mountain trees, any echoes quickly muffled by bark and leaves and brush. “For the most part they just shuffle around. It’s less common to see them at higher altitudes because as they shuffle gravity slowly tugs them down any incline present. That’s why mountains are safer. Not to mention there isn’t a high population in them to begin with.”

And Taehyung supposed he was right, but it did not make up for the fact that hauling bags of food up and over tree-covered rock was exhausting, and by the time they had made it over and back down onto flat ground Taehyung could no longer put the effort into lifting his shoes and just skimmed them over the ground instead. Dead on his feet indeed.

“Let’s find a place to stay for the night.” Namjoon sounded perhaps a little less out of breath than Taehyung felt, though he assumed it was due to his prior military training. Dawn was still a couple of hours away, but any progress they made for the rest of the night would more likely than not be slow and incautious. 

Their mountain detour had shifted their trajectory north, and rather than the wide waters of the bay, they were greeted with a muddy river snaking its way through the land and interrupting the urban landscape. Following this river lead them further west, passing at first houses but then larger buildings and warehouses akin to those on the eastern side of the mountains. 

“I say we just pick one of these big guys.” Taehyung commented, gesturing to the abandoned buildings they passed. “It was fine last time.”

“We may have to.” Namjoon’s gaze drew across the surrounding view: buildings and water and dirt. “But some of them are probably locked. It may take a while to find one that was left open.”

“Would it be a bad idea to split up?” It was eerie to Taehyung, the many buildings seemingly haunted in the quiet of the night. He wasn’t opposed to splitting into two groups, but the frown on Namjoon’s face spoke otherwise, and he realized the man was trying to figure out a way that the four of them could split without it turning into a fiasco. He and Jungkook couldn’t be together, but he was sure Namjoon wouldn’t want Jin pairing with either one of them, should they run into any humans or Hungries while searching. “I’ll go by myself, and you three can search together. I don’t mind, and I can work faster that way.” Jin looked uneasy at the idea of him going off alone- Taehyung preened at the idea of someone worrying about his wellbeing- but a moment of thought was all Namjoon needed before he shrugged, resignation pulling his mouth into a line.

“I mean, it’s not ideal, but I guess you have survived all this time without us. And it’s not like I could stop you if you really wanted to.” Namjoon chuckled, a hand coming up to rub at the spot where the strap of his backpack bit into his shoulder. “Just be safe, yeah? Stay within shouting distance and keep your knife out.”

With one last nod to Jin and Namjoon- and not to Jungkook, Taehyung might add smugly- Taehyung broke away from the group to examine the row of adjacent buildings, the crunch of his footsteps on the gravel echoing between their metal husks. 

Most, as suspected, were locked, and by the time he had checked his dozenth building, he was ready to return to the group to see if their progress was any greater. He turned away from the building, jumping back in surprise when he realized there was someone standing behind him, a few meters away. He swore as his knuckles connected with the metal door painfully, knife slipping through his grasp and tumbling to the ground. It was dark in the night and even more so between buildings, where very little light crept through the fissure between the two behemoths. From what Taehyung could make out, the figure was tall, at least taller than him, and had a lean build. A backpack rested on its shoulders, the front clipped snugly to prevent it from falling. 

“Jungkook?” Taehyung scoffed, squinting at the ground in an attempt to find his knife. “What the fuck do you want? Did you guys find an open warehouse?” Jungkook hummed in reply, taking a step closer and watching Taehyung’s hands graze over the pebbles. “Fine, I’ll be with you in a second.” Taehyung swore under his breath, eyes squinting tighter at the ground. He glanced back up, realizing Jungkook hadn’t yet left. “Fuck off, I said I’ll be with you in a second.” Rather than leave, Jungkook stumbled forward a few steps towards Taehyung, who was digging in his pocket trying to find his flashlight. It clicked as he turned it on lighting up the ground and revealing the position of his knife, shimmering a few feet away against the dull rocks. He heard Jungkook come closer, and spun angrily, shining the light in his face. “I said fuck-” the words caught in his throat as he realized it wasn’t Jungkook at all that he had been talking to. 

The figures face was rotted away to reveal a scattering of teeth connected to bone, skin hanging limply off what little face remained. Its eyes were cloudy and bloodshot, the tissue surrounding them gangrene, septic. The Hungry growled out at the sudden light, throwing its body towards Taehyung and slamming them both to the ground. The flashlight tumbled from his hand, rolling away and shining on the both of them so Taehyung could see its gnashing teeth, its wild, dead eyes. The air was forced painfully from his lungs and he lay gasping underneath the rotting body, hands flailing to get a grasp of its shoulders, trying to keep its head away from him.

“Namjoon!” His shout was weak at best; he was winded, struggling, the Hungry relentless as its teeth clicked inches from Taehyung’s face. He could not hear any replies to his call for help and doubted if any had heard him. He was alone. “Fuck. _Fuck_.”

Taehyung bent his knee, forcing it between their bodies. His teeth gritted at the effort, growling as his arms shook in exhaustion. With the help of his leg, he shoved the thing back just enough that he could slide his other leg up and deliver a kick to its face. A few teeth fell out at the impact, but the assault did nothing but make the thing moan louder, scrambling forward in an attempt to grab back onto Taehyung’s jacket. He sent it another kick, to its chest this time, as hard as he could muster. The thing flew backwards, landing on its back at Taehyung’s feet. Taehyung rolled over, coughing, onto his knees, grabbing the flashlight and searching frantically for his knife. The Hungry regained its bearings in a single second, pushing itself to its feet and lunging for Taehyung again. The glint of his knife grabbed his attention, and he dove for it, scraping his knuckles on the gravel painfully. He was back on his feet, turning just as the Hungry reached out its arm, its rotted hand clamping a round Taehyungs wrist. He rose his free arm into the air, about to swing it down when a bang erupted loudly through the night, its echoes bouncing off building and ground and water alike. Taehyung’s hand froze in the air as the grip around his arm slacked and fell away, the Hungry collapsing to the ground with a _whoomph_. He turned, expecting to see Namjoon but his eyes finding the unfamiliar silhouette of a stranger instead. 

The man was short but held a power about him, his arm still outstretched with gun closed tightly in his grasp. The flashlight on the ground did little to illuminate any distinguishing features other than his eyes, with stared at Taehyung with cautious curiosity. They stayed like that for a moment or two, sizing each other up as Taehyung regained his breath. 

“Are you alright?” The man asked finally, bending down to retrieve the flashlight.

“Yeah. It- it didn’t bite me.” Shouts of his name drew Taehyung’s attention to the other end of the corridor between the buildings, the rest of his group drawn by the sound of the gunshot. Namjoon had his own weapon out, pointing it at the newcomer, who held his hands up in surrender.

“Who are you?” Namjoon’s voice held the same distinct authority that always made an appearance when encountering someone new. Now, more than ever, considering this ‘someone new’ was in possession of a firearm. “Where did you get that?”

“Easy, I’m not here to cause trouble.” The man bent slowly, placing the gun onto the ground and taking a step back away from it. “My name is Jimin, and I found the gun on a dead officer. Figured it would come in handy.”

“Do you live around here?” Namjoon, though more relaxed now that the gun was on the ground, kept his vision trained on Jimin, taking cautious steps forward until he was reunited with Taehyung. Jin and Jungkook stayed near the mouth of the passage, keeping an eye on both them and the surrounding area, in case the gunshot had drawn any unwanted attention. 

Nodding slowly, Jimin gestured over his shoulder, further away from the river. “I’m all holed up in an elementary school. I was out scavenging when I saw this one,” he gestured to Taehyung, “and figured I may as well check him out in case he was gonna be a danger to me. Turned out he was the one that was in danger.”

A confirming nod from Taehyung was all that Namjoon needed to slowly lower and holster his gun, taking a breath that quenched the remaining tension from the air between them. “How did you get into a school? From what I’ve seen they are always locked”

“I actually used to teach there.” Jimin winced slightly, as if the casual comment pained him. “I had the keys to some of the classrooms, and the rest I found either in the main office or on the body of the janitor.” He paused, eying his gun on the ground and glancing back up at Namjoon in question of whether it was okay or not to pick it back up. 

“Go ahead.” Glancing behind him briefly to make sure Jin and Jungkook were still watching, Namjoon gestured to the gun, confident that it would not be a threat in Jimin’s care. “Are you allied with anyone?”

“No,” Jimin shook his head, “I mean, originally I looked after a few of my students that I managed to find but,” his fists balled at his sides, shaking slightly, “the nibblers got them.”

Taehyung felt his heart clench at the admission. He could see the tension written in Jimin’s frame, the guilt digging its hooks into his shoulders and pulling them heavily toward the ground.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” There was only slight pity in Namjoon’s voice, and Taehyung understood why. They had all lost someone, all faced hardships. It was the new normal. “Thank you for helping our friend. We won’t cause you any trouble, we’re just looking for a place to hole up until tomorrow.”

“I’ve already tried scavenging these buildings.” Jimin shook his head. “They’re all locked. You’re welcome to sleep in the school. If you’re comfortable with it, of course.”

Namjoon glanced at the others, and after receiving shrugs and a mumble of agreement or two nodded his head. They were tired. “Very well. Lead the way.”

The school was not far away. Namjoon’s fingers once again found the grip of his gun- you could never be too safe, too wary- as they approached, Jimin leading them around to one of the side entrances.

“I figured it was easier to keep only half of the place safe,” he explained as he held the door open for them, “so I blocked the hallways leading into the east wing. There’s a few classrooms that you can choose from.”

“We’ll only need one. We’ll sleep together.” Taehyung was glad Namjoon was the one doing the talking. He was still slightly shaken from his encounter with the hungry, and the rush of adrenaline had sucked up his last preserves of energy. “But you are welcome to eat with us first.”

The five of them sat on the floor of an abandoned room in a circle for their dinner. It was empty of all chairs and desks, which Taehyung assumed were now being used as a hallway barricade, but there remained typical class decorations stapled to the wall. Handprint turkeys, a chart of colours, a corkboard with STUDENT OF THE WEEK pinned to the top. He downed his can of mixed vegetables quickly, picking a random corner of the room and shuffling towards it. He didn’t want to think about the student of the week, or how they no longer had a heartbeat. He didn’t want to think about the life they could have lived, their dreams, their hopes for the future, a future that was torn from their tiny hands. Instead, he listened to the clippings of hushed conversation that floated to his ears, Namjoon explaining how the group had formed, what they planned on doing, Jimin admitting that he wouldn’t be much help but he would be honored if they let him join. Eventually Jungkook and Jin found their own respective corners to doze off to, and Jimin and Namjoon left the classroom to find a good watch point. Taehyung felt his body get heavy, exhaustion overtaking him until his mind yielded to it, sinking him into the dark velvet of slumber.

~ ~ ~

The next night’s walk went by smoother and seemingly faster than normal. Jimin seemed to ease the tension in the group, which Taehyung begrudgingly attributed to years of experience getting little kids to get along. Despite the relative ease of the journey, Taehyung could tell that Namjoon was getting antsy, unsatisfied with the pace they had taken up. He constantly rushed them, limiting their breaks to fifteen, then ten, then five minutes at a time. They allotted a single day to scavenging in Suncheon, which proved to be mostly fruitless aside from a half of a case of beer, which Namjoon immediately vetoed. Frustrated and tired, they settled in long before the sun was due to rise, deciding that extra rest was needed before the next day’s arduous trek to Gwangju. A mere hour of unsuccessfully searching for a place to stay was all it took before they decided just to take the risk to sleep outside, bargaining extra vigilance to justify the possibly rash decision.

Taehyung could not help but think of the future, as he stared up at the stars. He had travelled so far in the short time since he had been picked up by Namjoon and Jin, and yet it felt like so much longer. He could not have predicted that he would be here, and the thought scared him. It meant that he was just as blind walking into the current future. He wondered, briefly, about the sense of longing that was stickered stubbornly in his chest. Was he pining for the life he had before the infection, misfortuned as it may be? Surely it was better than this; better than wondering if each day would be his last, better than checking every corner and having his hand trained to twitch to his knife at the slightest movement in his peripherals. This was no way to live, and yet, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he didn’t miss his old life. He was nobody then, just another street rat, another face in the never-ending crowds of the city. And dangerous as it might be, Taehyung had the chance to _do_ something, at last, to _be_ somebody. His head lolled to the side and he saw Jin curled up at the base of a tree, limbs not quite covered by the jacket that Namjoon had thrown over him. There was so much at risk, so much weighing on Jin, and Taehyung decided that Namjoon was right. They had to do everything they could, use every resource possible, to get Jin to where he needed to be. Taehyung would take on the responsibility, he decided. He could be somebody. He could help end this.


	5. Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I just posted two days ago but I finished chapter 19 today and it made me !!!excited!!! so here we are.  
> I have one chapter left to write!!!!!!!! And friends I need to know; once I 100% finish this fic do you want me to start posting every day or continue to post 2-3 times a week? There's like 15 chapters left.

The city of Gwangju stretched out before them, innumerable buildings splayed across the landscape far into the distance. Taehyung took in the sight before him, only glancing away when Jimin, huffing, sank onto the ground by his feet. 

“Goodness, I haven’t gotten this much exercise since… I can’t even remember.” Jimin chuckled, shrugging off his backpack and letting the grass slip through his fingers absentmindedly. Taehyung looked back into the gaping mouth of the forest, seeing the rest of the group emerge from the darkness, Namjoon saying something to Jungkook with a slightly stern look. “How are you doing?”

The question brought Taehyung out of his trance. “I’m fine,” he said flatly.

Jimin regarded him curiously. “You seem… distracted. Is something bothering you?”

“I…” Taehyung was slightly taken aback at the accusation. He hadn’t realized his inner turmoil was so obvious. He glanced once more at the trio still catching up and, deciding they were far away enough to warrant rest, sat down beside Jimin, feeling the earth sigh under his weight. “I guess so. It is just weird, you know? All that’s happened. It’s surreal.” A frown pinched between his eyebrows. “I just can’t mentally grasp it all. Everything is different and yet.” he looked back at the approaching group. Jungkook was laughing at something Jin said, Namjoon shaking his head with a small smile on his face. “Everything is still the same.”

“Are you talking about Jungkook?” Jimin’s voice was soft, cautious.

“No,” Taehyung snapped, shooting a glare sideways. He was greeted with a gentle smile, and it made him sigh. “Okay, fine, yes. It’s about Jungkook.” His nose wrinkled in distaste at the name. “You- you have no idea what I’ve been through. Even before the hungries appeared, people like him just…” he trailed off, letting a wave of his hand finish the sentence for him. 

Jimin nodded in understanding. “It doesn’t seem fair, is it? You’ve had to deal with hardships your whole life, but Jungkook remains sheltered, even now.”

“ _Exactly_.” Taehyung breathed, relieved that someone finally understood. The relief did not last long.

“I think you are being unreasonable to him.” Taehyung opened his mouth to speak at the accusation, eyes narrowed, but Jimin held up a hand, silencing him. “Your misfortunes are not his doing. I feel like you are simply projecting your frustrations of your life onto him. Nobody has come out of this a winner. Not even Jungkook. Don’t you think we ought to protect each other, regardless of who we were before this all happened?”

“I owe him nothing.” There was venom in Taehyung’s voice as he spat the words. 

“No, no you don’t,” Jimin admitted, “but if you do not assist him in his time of need, then how can you claim to be a better person than he was when he did not assist you in yours?” He paused, and Taehyung remained silent, staring down at the ground with bitterness written across his face. “Do you want to know what I think?”

“No, but I feel like you are going to tell me anyways.”

“I won’t tell you if you don’t want me to.”

Sighing deeply, Taehyung leaned back on his hands, letting his head fall back so that he was once more staring blankly up at the sky. “Just say it.”

“I think you’re scared.”

Taehyung scoffed. “Who isn’t?”

“That’s not what I meant. I’m not talking about the Nibblers, I’m talking about the humans.” Another pause as they listened to the murmured sounds of the rest of the group finding their own rest spot, far enough away that the conversations didn’t mingle but close enough to still feel their presence. “I think you’re scared that things are becoming like how they were before. I think you’re scared that Jungkook will take your spot.” Taehyung felt a hand on his shoulder and resisted the impulse to brush it away. “I just want to tell you that that won’t happen. Things are different now, you know that. We all have your back. Hopefully you feel the same towards us. _All_ of us.” Jimin raised an eyebrow as he tilted his head in the direction of Jungkook. He let the words hang in the air between them for a moment before standing and walking over to the rest of the group, leaving Taehyung alone with his thoughts.

~ ~ ~

“Shh.” Namjoon brought his arm up sharply, halting Taehyung in his tracks. The empty street stretched before them, punctuated by abandoned cars and fallen light posts. “I heard something.”

The conversation between Jin and Jimin sputtered out behind them. Taehyung followed Namjoon silently as he stalked forward, listening. A shuffle, so quiet it could have almost been dismissed as the wind, sounded to Taehyung’s left out of the broken window of a pharmacy. Namjoon glanced back, having heard it too, and gestured for the remaining three to stay back while he and Taehyung went in.

There was a certain smugness in Taehyung’s mind as he followed Namjoon into the pharmacy at having been chosen, though it was quickly extinguished as their entrance through the door was signaled by wind chimes attached to the handle. So much for the element of surprise. 

Namjoon’s boots crunched over the broken glass decorating the drab linoleum of the room, his gun clutched in his hands as he checked each corner and aisle, long emptied of anything useful. The silence was choking as they stalked past the cash register, greeted by a lone door at the very back of the room. Namjoon glanced at Taehyung, who clutched tighter onto the handle of his knife, before reaching out, his fingers closing around the worn brass knob. 

A chill crept up Taehyung’s back. There was the inexplicable feeling of being watched nagging his brain, and he glanced over his shoulder. Nothing.

The knob creaked as Namjoon turned it, pulling Taehyung’s attention back to the door. Namjoon hesitated once more, taking a breath, before throwing it open. He took a step back to aim his gun, and Taehyung pushed himself onto his toes to try and see over his shoulder. A man stood in the back room, his hand paused in the air, frozen in the act of stuffing medical supplies into his backpack. Light from the window glinted off his chestnut hair as he turned at the sound, a moment passing before he registered their presence. His eyes widened as he took in the two men before him, eyes darting down to the gun in Namjoon’s hand. 

There was a crunch of glass behind Taehyung and a moment later something hard connected with his head, sending his vision reeling. He sunk down onto his hands and knees, dizzy as the world swam before him. A boot connected with his gut, throwing him against the wall beside the door. He coughed, eyes squeezed tight in pain. A body leapt over him at Namjoon, tackling him onto the ground in the door frame. 

Taehyung coughed, pushing himself to his feet as Namjoon and the assailant rolled around in the small space of the back room, uncaring of the objects that they knocked off the counter. The man managed to roll Namjoon onto his back, straddling his waist and delivering a well-aimed jab to Namjoon’s jaw. Blood splattered across the already dirty ground and the man pulled his fist back again, ready to deliver another. Taehyung lunged forward, grabbing the man’s legs and pulling him down far enough that Namjoon could grab a handful of his hair and yank him off, thrusting his knee into the man’s ribs. The man kicked, connecting with Taehyung’s forearm hard enough that he let go with a cry. He heard the others outside call for him, unsure of if they should enter.

The man on Namjoon wretched his hair free from his grasp, turning to look back long enough to coordinate a swift kick to Taehyung’s chest. He fell back against the counter, the handles of the drawers underneath the register biting into his shoulder. Namjoon and the man resumed scuffling on the floor, and through their fight Taehyung heard something clatter to the floor, his eyes finding the dark metal of Namjoon’s gun. His eyes looked up and saw the other man pressed against the far wall of the backroom, seemingly unsure of what to do. 

Taehyung groaned as he pushed himself off the counter, crawling forwards and snatching the gun, which had gone unnoticed by either man on the ground, off of the floor and aiming it at the cowering man. 

“Fucking freeze or I’ll shoot!” His words were a growl, their sheer ferocity making both on the ground pause and look up at him.

Namjoon’s attacker looked at him, the gun in his hand, then at where it was pointed. His eyes widened, and he held up his hand. “Don’t!”

Namjoon took the opportunity to push him away, shoving him roughly against the door frame before lurching to his feet, holding out his own hand. “Here, give me the gun.” A bruise was beginning to blossom on his jaw, blood welling from a cut that stretched across on cheekbone. 

Taehyung ignored him. “Get- get back.” He ordered the stranger, who hesitated. “I said get back!” he repeated, gesturing with the gun.

“Fuck’s sake, don’t shoot.” The main snarled through gritted teeth, one hand coming to his waist as he used the counter to haul himself up. He spat out of a mouthful of blood onto the ground. He was smaller than Taehyung initially thought, considering how much of a fight he put up, his round face holding a look of pure loathing. 

There was a moment of silence between the four of them, neither side knowing what to do or say, before Namjoon spoke, eyes not straying from the unknown pair. “Start explaining.”

“Explain what?” The small man snapped back, “You are the ones whorolled up on us.”

“You attacked me.”

“You had your gun out. I was protecting him.” The man jerked his head towards the brunette, who had replaced his fearful expression with one of gentle concern. 

“Namjoon?” Jin’s voice echoed across the pharmacy. “Is everything okay?”

“We’re fine. Just stay there.” Approaching footsteps signaled that the order fell on deaf ears, and Namjoon sighed, taking the gun from Taehyung. 

“Oh!” Jimin looked surprised as he joined them and saw the two in the room. “Who’s this?”

“Jesus, what happened?” Jin rushed forward, cradling Namjoon’s face in his hands. “You’re bleeding.”

Namjoon waved him off with his free hand. “I’m okay, I’m okay.”

“No, it’s really bleeding. Joon, I don’t want it to get infected-”

“I can look at it.” The brunette’s voice surprised all of them. He turned sheepish as each set of eyes found him, one hand slinking around the short man’s arm as if in comfort. “I mean, if you want.”

“No.” The short man pulled him close. “He’s fine. He said so himself.” He looked uncomfortable in the room, backed into a corner like an animal and ready to attack at the slightest offense. 

“Oh, would you stop?” The brunette hit him lightly, his voice hushed. “We’re not exactly in the position to be rude, if you haven’t noticed.” He looked back towards Namjoon with a small, unsure smile. “I am a nurse, or at least I was. If you like, I can see if it needs attention. If not, we’d really just like to be going. We don’t mean any harm.”

“Are you allied with anyone else?” Namjoon questioned, unaffected by the offer of kindness.

“No, it’s just us.” There was nothing in the brunette’s that suggested he was lying. “I’m Hoseok, this is Yoongi. Again, we really don’t mean any harm. It’s regrettable that we met in such violent circumstances, but at this point we just can’t be too careful, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” Namjoon admitted after Jin nudged him encouragingly. He paused, seeming to want the conversation there, but after a pointed look was sent his way he sighed. “You can… look at my cut, if you want.”

“It’s the least I can do.”

“Wonderful,” Jin crooned, clasping his hands together decidedly, a certain pride to his voice. “Oh, but is this the safest place? There’s not really any protection.”

“It’s not, you’re right.” Hoseok nodded in agreement. “We don’t exactly know the city well, so I can’t think of anywhere we can go that would be better.”

“Why don’t we just all find a good place to stay for the night?” Jimin offered. 

There was a general murmur of agreement, punctuated by Namjoon sighing and Yoongi rolling his eyes, and it was settled. After a moment to finish looting the pharmacy, the new-formed group exited back onto the streets. Taehyung wasn’t sure how to feel. He had, admittedly, not yet come to terms with even Jimin joining the group, and though there was no promise for long term occupation of these two new strangers, it still made him uneasy. 

He stayed silent, lost in his thoughts, as they routinely searched for a good place. By the time they had all decided on an abandoned apartment complex, he was getting a multitude of concerned glances from not only Jimin but also Jin. He paid them no mind. It was only once he was alone with Hoseok and Yoongi that he began to speak again. The group had split off into groups to do a perimeter check of the floor they decided to stay on, as well as the ones above and below. Namjoon had assigned Taehyung to the new-comers, and he couldn’t help but wonder why. Jin, obviously, was not a choice, as Namjoon would never risk leaving him with strangers, but Jungkook and Jimin were both an option as well. Perhaps it was his sheer self-sustainability that made him a good choice. Or maybe there had been no thought to the matter at all. Taehyung didn’t care.

“So how long have you known the rest of them?” Hoseok questioned pleasantly, bringing sound into the stale air as Yoongi pushed open a door cautiously.

“Not long.” Taehyung’s voice was dull, and he almost felt bad. He had no ill will with Hoseok and didn’t want the man to think him unfriendly. “I bumped into Namjoon and Jin a bit more than a week ago. What about you two?”

“Oh, it’s been _years_.” 

Taehyung blinked in surprise. “So you knew each other before…?”

“Before the Njaa?” Hoseok finished. “Yeah, we met when I was first starting out as a nurse. This one,” Hoseok tilted his head in Yoongi’s direction, who did not respond to mention of him, continuing silently with his task. “was brought into my hospital with a stab wound after getting into a scuffle with someone who had a warrant. I wasn’t assigned to his care, mind you. I saw him brought in in the morning, and them we bumped into each other in the lobby when I was getting off shift and he was leaving. On the same day, might I add! We were both walking to the same parking lot and ended up talking on the way. When he told me about what happened, I said he ought to spend at least a little more time under supervised care. He asked for my number and said he would call if he needed my supervision, and the rest is history.”

Despite his best efforts, Taehyung couldn’t help the smile that crept across his face. “How cute,” he chuckled, “I guess not even law enforcement is above cheesy pickup lines.”

“Do you really need to tell that story to everyone you meet?’ Yoongi’s voice came from the other room, though he didn’t particularly sound annoyed, like it was a habit, a thinly veiled front to be exasperated with Hoseok. 

“I do, as a matter of fact,” Hoseok teased, and Taehyung felt a wave of something unexplainable wash over him. It was a sense of normalcy, almost, a nostalgia without the melancholy that usually came along with it. “It is my way of remembering the time when you used to be romantic.”

Finishing his search of the room, Yoongi brushed past them both back into the hallway. “I still am romantic,” he muttered indignantly as he passed by, at which Hoseok laughed. Taehyung was glad, suddenly, to be grouped with them, to be privy to such intimate moments, such jovial vulnerability. It felt good, and he mused that there was hope for humanity after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am..... Sope trash. They are so cute my heart busts fat uwus  
> Also I breathed a sigh of releif when I realized finally everyone is introduced lol took me long enough smh I swear I'm ot7


	6. Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's about time for some damn action. 
> 
> I finished the last chapter!!!!!!! Yassss bitches and guess what? It beat out IOFT and is now officially my longest piece. Everybody say thank youuuu BTS

The group sat in the dining room of one of the flats, each clutching their own can of assorted food. The table, albeit dust-covered, was in excellent condition, which was an odd occurrence. Most things had suffered mistreatment in the two months since the appearance of the Hungries, used as barricades or cut up for fire wood. After another snarky remark from Taehyung, Jungkook had ended up once again with the caviar, which he was eating obnoxiously loudly in spite. 

“So,” Yoongi started behind a mouthful of assorted spring vegetables, “what brought you to Gwangju?”

“It’s a pit stop.” Namjoon shrugged over his can of chicken and rice soup. His face was swelling slightly under the gauze that Hoseok had taped over his cut, which hadn’t needed stitches after all. “We’re making our way up to Incheon.”

“Incheon?” Yoongi cocked his head, the corners of his mouth twitching downwards in thought. “Where are you coming from?”

"Busan.”

“Wouldn’t it have just been faster to go directly there rather than come all the way west?” Hoseok’s expression mirrored Yoongi’s as he spoke. Taehyung realized he had a point. He had never really questioned Namjoon and Jin’s leadership as they trekked, assuming everything was for a reason. He figured he ought to be more critical from now on.

“Yes, but like I said, this is a pit stop.” Namjoon’s answer was quite obviously not enough, and the two looked at him with questioning eyes. Namjoon took another sip of soup, chewing slowly, before continuing. “There’s a laboratory in Incheon that we are trying to get to.” He jerked his head towards Jin. “We’re going to try to spread a, uh, cure. Try to fix this mess.” The words seemed to not quite sit well in Namjoon’s mouth, but Taehyung didn’t question it. “There is also a lab in Gwangju, but we aren’t sure if it’s still running. If it is, then we can get the cure out sooner.”

“If not?” Hoseok’s voice was quiet. 

Namjoon shrugged again. “Then so be it. We’ll go to Incheon.”

“What if Incheon is also down?” Yoongi set down his now empty can.

“It isn’t.” Namjoon said, though perhaps with the slightest tinge of uncertainty. “We were in contact them when we left Busan. They are outfitted with military personal and are taking every precaution to make sure they are not compromised.”

Yoongi hummed in reply, and they fell into a quiet, the only sounds the clink of tin cans as they were discarded and a shuffling of clothes and Jin, Jimin and Jungkook headed off to the bedrooms, calling it a night early. Yoongi and Hoseok murmured between themselves for a while, then turned back to address Namjoon.

“We would like to join you.” Hoseok’s eyes darted to Taehyung as he spoke, which made him feel less like a fly on the wall, less like an outsider. “It’s safer to be in a group, and you guys are really trying to do something good.” Namjoon was silent for a moment, as if contemplative. Taehyung knew he wouldn’t say no, but Hoseok seemed to take it as a sign of reluctance, and worry tinged his voice as he continued to speak. “We can be of use to you. Like I said, I was a nurse, and Yoongi here was an officer before the Njaa attacked.”

Namjoon raised an eyebrow. “Military officer?”

Yoongi’s face twitched, slight disdain painting his features. “Police.”

“Still.” one of Namjoon’s shoulders came up in a half-hearted shrugged. He paused for a moment more before nodding slowly. “You can join, if you’d like, but do know that we operate under a set of expectations. Protecting Jin is our number one priority. Our pace is fast, and if you can’t keep up you will be left behind.”

“Fine by us,” Yoongi agreed, but Taehyung questioned the veracity of his statement. He wondered if Yoongi really would protect Jin if it meant putting Hoseok in danger. Doubtful. Love was a powerful thing, after all.

~ ~ ~

The outside lab was overwhelmingly ordinary. It seemed like an innocent building: squat, the same drab grey colour that most the urban space had adopted. Situated in the heart of the city, it was hugged on either side by tall office buildings, and Taehyung couldn’t help but wonder if they were a mere front for the questionable activity within.

There was a thud as Namjoon rattled the door. Locked, unsurprisingly. Seeing this, Jin approached, moving the other to the side with a wave of his hand. Namjoon followed the momentum back a few steps until he stood beside Taehyung, the two of them watching Jin as he put in a keypad and let a scanner read his fingerprints. 

“Is he unlocking it?” There was uncertainty in Taehyung’s voice. Namjoon grunted in reply. “How? There’s no power.”

“Solar panels.” Namjoon jerked his head toward the roof of the building, where the moon glinted off the glossy array of black panels boxed in by metal frames. Taehyung hadn’t even noticed them. A small beep came from the door, the digital sound foreign after so many weeks of blackout. Jin pulled open to door to keep it from relocking but allowed Namjoon to enter first, following the man past the gaping mouth of the threshold. 

Lights blinked to life at their presence, alerted either by motion sensors or activation of the door. They were dim and sparse, studded in the juncture of the wall and floor on either side. Not much help. Jin mentioned something about them being a means to conserve energy, that the overhead lights were costly to power, but could be turned on by a switch in the lab itself. No sounds echoed down the hallways other than the ones that their own group made, the air stale and scented with the chemical sterility commonplace to all hospitals. 

Taehyung startled as the air system groggily started up, the sounds of it not yet familiar enough to be white noise. A ventilation fan sputtered to life above him. It was weird to hear the sounds of technology again. The buzzing of lights, the sigh of automatic doors that shuffled out of the way at their approach, the _whooshwhooshwhoosh_ of passing fans. The world had become so quiet in the new dark age, occupied only by the sounds of flesh and fabric, flora and fauna. Nature had risen in the collapse of humanity, graceful in her suffocation, elegant in her conquering of lands that were once hers before. 

And Taehyung wasn’t sure if it was the buzz, or the silence, or the tart flavor of the air, but there was a twisting in his gut, a dreadful tug, the inexplicable feeling that something was wrong. 

As the hallway penetrated deeper into the building, the once empty walls began to be interrupted by doors. All locked. Not important anyways, according to Jin. They needed to go deeper. 

Under Jin’s direction, Namjoon followed the hallway until it ended, replaced by a staircase that descended into even thicker darkness. It seemed to whisper to Taehyung, to breathe his name. He didn’t like it. But Namjoon pushed forward, unafraid or at least damn good at pretending to be. There was little sense of security, even with Namjoon and Jin ahead and the rest trailing behind. Taehyung still felt exposed, vulnerable. His hand found purchase on the railing as he descended into the maw of ink and silence, the metal cool and smooth at first. As he neared the base, he felt it turn rough, brittle pieces flaking off in his hand. Paint? Rust?

The staircases ended perpendicular to a hallway, which stretched out to the left and right seemingly indefinitely. There was even less light down here, the lights no longer emitting a white glow but rather a dim red, which Taehyung assumed was also for energy preservation.

“Which way?” Jimin’s words, soft and delicate, came from above and behind, which meant he was still on the stairs. Taehyung supposed they, too, were scared of taking those final steps into the abyss. He swore he could hear Jungkook whimper more than once. Pussy.

“Right.” Jin’s voice was certain but shook slightly in what Taehyung assumed was nervousness. 

“Hell.” Namjoon hissed, not yet moving. Taehyung imagined him squinting into the dark, as if it would become lighter under intimidation of a mean glare. Not so. “We can’t continue like this.” There was the sound of fabric on fabric as Namjoon’s backpack slipped from his shoulders, zipping it open and fishing out the flashlight within. It was a luxury; batteries were few and far in between, and flashlights had been deemed for emergency use only. Taehyung ran his fingers over his palm, his skin chalky from whatever had been on the railing. With a click, the hallway was bathed in light, and Taehyung looked down to his hand to see it coloured a dark red. Blood. Old, dried blood. His stomach churned, threatening to heave up what little contents it held.

A curse brought his attention from his hand, and this time he couldn’t hold back the dry heave that wracked his body. The floor was coated in blood. It reached up the walls unevenly, punctuated by occasional handprints and smears across its once pristine surface. The stains on the floor were streaked, evidence of struggle, plentiful enough that not an inch of floor was the colour it had been originally. Taehyung realized with a gag that the lights were white after all, or at least were meant to be, tinted red as they struggled to shine through their iron cocoon.

For a moment, everyone was silent. Fear sat in Taehyung’s throat, blocking any sound that threatened to bubble to the surface. There was a shift in the air, slight enough that it could be excused as the newly awakened ventilation system, but the longer Taehyung was exposed to it the more he noticed the insidious promise it held.

“Keep moving.” If Namjoon sensed the shift in the air, he did not let on. But Yoongi did. Namjoon had taken a mere step and a half before Yoongi pushed past Taehyung, Hoseok still on the stairs, unsure.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He hissed, a hand grabbing Namjoon’s jacket and pulling him roughly back. “This place is obviously a lost cause. Let’s go. Unless you plan on adding to _that_.” He nodded to the dried pool on the floor.

Namjoon stiffened, but did not relent, pulling his arm out of Yoongi’s grasp. “No. We push forward. We can’t go yet.”

“Why not?” Namjoon didn’t reply. Yoongi grabbed him again, shoving him against the wall roughly and fisting his hands in the neckline of his shirt. “ _Why not?_ ” he repeated, the words spat through clenched teeth slowly, deliberately. Blood flaked off the wall where the fabric of the backpack rubbed it, fluttering to the ground like a silent heavy snow.

Namjoon swallowed. Looked at Jin once. Breathed deeply, let it out. “The cure is here.”

The admission seeped through the group like acid. The uneasy throb Taehyung had felt vanished, outshone by a hollow feeling of dread, betrayal, deceit. 

“What?” Taehyung’s lips formed around the word, but it was Jungkook’s voice that filled it, a certain desperation in his voice, an accusation.

“You…” Jimin’s voice followed Jungkook's. “You didn’t have it? This whole time?”

“Does it matter?” Namjoon spat in reply. “We’re here now. The sooner we get it the sooner we can fucking leave.”

“ _Does it matter?_ ” Yoongi echoed, the words housing disbelief before he managed to compose himself, shaking off the residual shock of the admission. “Yes. Yes it fucking matters. You fucking liar, you… you put us in anger. _Him_ in danger. And for what? Do you even know it’s here?”

Namjoon put up with the battery of words, not even raising a hand to the smaller man. When he spoke, his voice was had the detached flatness of restrained emotion. Yoongi was volatile, shaking in fury. One wrong word would turn it violent, and this was not the time, nor place. “I am positive it’s here.”

Taehyung’s neck prickled. He rolled his shoulders at the shiver that skittered up his spine, against the whisper of air against his nape. And this time he couldn’t ignore the feeling, couldn’t ignore the silence that had become filled, holding its breath, waiting.

“Guys.” His voice was barely a whisper, snuffed out by the terror that gobbled up his heart, his lungs. Where had the air gone? It escaped him, even in the narrow hallway. He longed to breathe it, tainted as it was, to fill himself with the scent of industry and flesh. He slipped his bag from his shoulders, turning slowly, slowly. His hands slipped into its maw, zippered teeth rubbing along his fingers until they closed over the cool metal of his own flashlight. Everything was suddenly too much, Taehyung’s senses hyper aware. The walls cinched in, the air heavy and choked with flakes of blood, drifting like spring pollen in its empty spaces. “ _Guys_ ,” he repeated louder, interrupting Yoongi’s ongoing stream of threats toward a silent Namjoon. Their eyes found his form, then looked beyond it, and Taehyung assumed that they all saw what he did. 

The lights. Shoved into the nook between the wall and floor, leading off into the dark unknown untouched by the halo of Namjoon’s flashlight. They were there, then not, then there again. Twinkling like distant stars. As if turning on and off, or, Taehyung realized with dread, by being momentarily blocked by something moving. 

The flashlights were only for emergency. This was definitely an emergency. Taehyung flicked it on. It shone past the staircase, illuminating the single curious face of Jimin, whose eyes followed its beam. And then, all together, the five of them stared into the many eyes of death itself.


	7. The New Normal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Henlo I wanted to post yesterday but a bitch has midterms ;n;
> 
> Honestly speaking this chapter was a gong show when I went to edit it IDK if i was sleep deprived or WHAT when I wrote it so if you read a sentence and youre like "bitch what the fuck you on" sorry I missed that bc I already fixed a lot of dumb shit lololol  
> Also I realized the pace of this fic is basically a whole lot of uwu then a whole lot of ono so be patient if youre a masochist like me  
> Also also I realized that I didn't put this in my chapter one notes but I have Never actually been to Korea okay I know this whole fic is based on a country-wide expedition but ive never been there so if YOU have and you are like "Actually bitch it would take 4 days to walk through those mountains not 3 I know I majored in South Korea hiking times and I was actually born from the earth itself in Busan" or whatever I Don't Care!!!! I deleted whole ass buildings because they interfered with my settings! I can't be bothered to research which rivers are salt/fresh water and if you can drink from them!! I have no idea how tall the mountains are there or if you can even climb over them!!! That's okay!!! It's the power of imagination!!! This is AO3 not an excerpt of South Korea's geographical encyclopedia!!  
> Anyways as always I love you guys and I love comments uwu

“Run.”

None of them had to be told twice. Jimin’s head disappeared back into the stairwell, and Taehyung could hear three pairs of feet pounding up the stairs, back to the surface, back to the light. He was too far from the stairs to even try. The Hungries erupted into motion at the sudden brightness, surging forward like a high tide. Dozens of them. Some were dressed in lab coats, others shredded military gear, others naked. The sheer sight of them stunned Taehyung for a second, and it was only when Jin’s hand wrapped around his wrist, nails accidentally scratching into his skin, that Taehyung snapped to focus, turning to bolt down the hallway after Namjoon and Yoongi. 

He flicked his flashlight off but could still hear them chase, drawn by their sound as their footsteps pounded loudly against tile, the faint glow of the floor lights illuminating their boots. Taehyung did not know where they were going. He followed in what seemed like a maze, turn after turn behind Jin. Slowly they distanced themselves from the Hungries, but it did little to ease Taehyung. There was no telling how many more were lurking around the corner, huddled in hallways until stimulated by the presence of humans, of food. There was also no telling if the first group was still trailing them, and while Hungries were not fast, they did not tire, and were damn persistent. 

“In here.” At last, Jin stopped them in front of a door, identical to countless they had run past in their escape. He punched a code into the seemingly dead keypad and was greeted with a beep. There was a click of electronics and the slide of metal against itself, and then the door eased open, leading into blackness occupied by not even the floor lights that had prior been their guide. 

Taehyung slipped in behind Yoongi, shutting the door behind him at Namjoon’s instruction. They plunged into complete blackness, and Taehyung could do nothing but stand, useless, until Namjoon’s flashlight once again clicked on.

They were in a small hallway bookended by two doors, one being what they had just come through. The other door was glass, reflecting the flashlight’s beam back at them. The four of them stood, slightly panting as they allowed the adrenaline to wear off. Yoongi stared at Namjoon, blank faced, for a moment, before he closed the space between them in a single step, cocking back his arm then connecting his fist with Namjoon’s jaw. 

Jin yelped at the assault, launching himself at Yoongi to prevent any further attacks, but the man seemed content to have just delivered the one. “If anything,” he growled, shoving Jin off him roughly, “ _anything_ happens to Hoseok, I will skin you alive and feed you to those things.”

Rubbing his jaw, Namjoon ignored the threat and instead turned to the door, inspecting the second set of biometrics and beckoning Jin over. “Open this.”

Another code and hand scanner later, the glass hissed and yielded, sliding away to let air rush into the hall. Taehyung shuddered at the bite of the draft, his breath swirling before him in a misty dance. “Shit, that’s cold.” He followed behind into the room, Namjoon’s sweeping flashlight providing the only light.

“It’s in here.” Jin’s voice came from the left of the room, where he stood in front of a steel door, half a person wide and stretching from the floor to ceiling, like an apocalypse-ready gym locker. He fiddled with the door for a moment, pressing the keypad and trying to scanners, but unlike before the door stayed closed and quiet. “This isn’t supported by the back-up generator. We’ll have to turn on the power to the whole lab.”

“Where is the switch?” Namjoon stalked forward, tentatively exploring the room, and Taehyung followed. The wall opposite to the entrance was completely glass, and as Namjoon approached, Taehyung could see that there were individual cells on the other side, separated from one another by their own glass walls. The flashlight flicked across one of the cells, revealing a toilet, sink, and cot. Namjoon paused the beam on a form hunched in the corner, unmoving, before flicking it away, too quickly for Taehyung to get a good look at it. Each of the two leftmost cells each housed one of these vague figures, but the last was empty. Taehyung stepped towards it, squinting through the glass. Yes, definitely empty. 

The right side of the cell was different from the all the others, and Taehyung realized that part of it was a door, a door that had been opened and left as a gaping hole in the glass. He tried to see where it led but the room the four of them were in did continue far enough.

“In the office.” Jin’s footsteps tapped across the floor to the right side of the room, stopping behind Taehyung at a door that he hadn’t noticed. He clicked it open and Taehyung followed behind, eager to see if the last cell was viewable from this side of the wall. 

“Taehyung, get away from there.” Namjoon’s reprimand was half-hearted as Taehyung pressed his face against the glass wall of the office, squinting to see what lay on the other side. Another cell?

“Here it is.” Jin’s voice came from the far corner of the office. He muttered under his breath as he jiggled the power box open, Namjoon joining him to give assistance in the form of light. “This will give power to the whole lab, but I’m not sure how long it will last. We’ll grab it and go.”

“Hold on.” Yoongi had stayed in the door frame, not crowding the small office with any more people than necessary. “If you power up the lab, wont that turn on all of the lights?”

“Well, yes,” Jin answered. “The controls are not exclusively operated. I can’t turn on the safe’s biometrics without also turning on the lights, at least not from here.”

“So we’re just gonna walk through the hallways with the lights on?” Yoongi scoffed at the idea. “Are you insane? Who knows how many more Njaa there are crawling this lab. We’ll have no cover.”

“We have no other option.” Jin sounded uneasy, realizing the weight of the decision. It increased the danger tenfold to add light into the situation; they would be able to see, but so would the Hungries. It was not an ideal tradeoff. 

“We don’t know if the others made it out. There could be more on the upper level. If we turn on the power, we could give their position away.” As Yoongi spoke, Taehyung continued to look into the cell. He didn’t want to bother getting involved in the argument. Trying to get another viewing angle, Taehyung shuffled to the corner of the office, peering diagonally into the cell. It did seem like there was something in it, but he could not tell what. It was bigger than the figure in the other cells, stretched out over the floor instead of cowered in a corner. 

He shifted slightly and felt something hit the corner of his boot. Bending, his hands ghosted over the floor until they too found the object, feeling its shape against his fingers. A book? He was not sure. He considered bringing it to the others’ attention, or asking Namjoon to shine the flashlight onto it, but decided not to, instead silently slipping it into his backpack. He could look at it later, whatever it was.

“You think we don’t realize that?” This time it was Namjoon’s voice that answered Yoongi. “We wouldn’t do this if we had another option. But we don’t. Jin, light us up.”

A moment of silence, then there was a click as Jin flicked the switch. The lights turned on in sequence, snapping to life one after another. Such brightness had become foreign and Taehyung winced, squeezing his eyes together until they could get used to the new illumination. When he finally opened them, he gasped, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. 

The cell housed not one but two Hungries, both sprawled out on the floor. One was intact, rotting flesh handing off of limbs and skin stretched over bones. The other, however, was not. It was missing an arm, and one side of its torso was torn open to reveal a gaping hole, ribs broken and sticking up through the skin, some missing. Even with the decay of the flesh it was obvious that the wound was not clean, decayed skin hanging raggedly off the edges of the hole. 

“What the fuck?” Taehyung could head Yoongi approach. “What the _fuck_?” he repeated.

Taehyung looked back at Jin, who said nothing, only staring into the cell and blinking. They stayed in a stunned silence for a moment more before Namjoon shook himself back to life, taking Jin by the arm and guiding him out of the office. “Stop ogling. We have to go. Yoongi. Taehyung, get up. We’re leaving, now.” His voice was cold as he spoke, commanding in a way that was not to be argued with. Taehyung obeyed, swinging his bag back onto his shoulders. He left the office and gave a quick glimpse into the other cells, each no less gruesome than the first. 

In the left most cell, beside where Jin was punching in the code for the safe, a Hungry leaned against a wall, watching them. Its teeth gnashed, eyes wild at the sight of food. Taehyung wondered why it was simply sitting there, not throwing itself at the glass like a normal Hungry would, and took a closer look, taking a few cautious steps towards the glass, his own eyes widening as he processed what he saw.

The hungry was limbless. Its arms stopped at the torso, chunks of flesh missing from the shoulders in crescent moon divots. Its legs stopped halfway down the thigh, femurs blackened with rot and disappearing into gelatinous, decayed meat. The leg bones wiggled as the hungry attempted to walk, waving up and down in a way that would have been humorous if it were not so horrifying. Had it…. eaten itself? Taehyung felt sick at the thought. No, no, Hungries only ate live meat. They did not each themselves, nor each other. He thought back to the Hungries in the office, the shadow of violence spewed across the floor. What was happening at this lab before its fall? He was suddenly glad for his decision to keep the book a secret, knowing that it would have likely been confiscated had he brought it to Namjoon and Jin’s attention. 

A beep brought his attention back to the others. Jin pulled the safe’s door open, reaching in to retrieve what looked like a plastic bottle of powder no bigger than a finger. Even Yoongi was silenced, not at what it was, but what it could be. It’s implications, its promise for a new future, another chance. The moment was shattered as quickly as it had formed. Jin slipped the bottle into his backpack and Namjoon called Taehyung back into the small room separating them from the main hallway.

“Listen up.” Namjoon had taken control, and both Jin and Yoongi looked to him for direction. “We want to get out of here as fast as possible, but we don’t want to attract any more attention than we have to. Let’s move fast and move silently. Jin knows the way out, so he will lead. I’ll follow, then Taehyung, then Yoongi.”

“Fuck that.” Everyone’s eyes went to Yoongi, who had a slightly manic look on his face. “I’ll go second. Your ass can be last.”

Namjoon regarded him for a moment, his face twisting as he deliberated. Then he sighed, nodding. “Fine. I’ll cover the end.” He stepped towards the door, hand pausing on the knob before he gave one more glance over his shoulder to Yoongi. He pushed the door open, revealing a well-lit but empty hall. They filed out, assuming their set positions in line, before Namjoon signaled to start moving.

No one dared say a word as they made their way through the underground maze. The hallways were empty, eerily so, the fluorescent lights too bright, too sterile for the circumstances which they shined upon. Taehyung felt exposed under their glare.

Turning a corner, he saw the blood coated floor where the group had split, the stairwell delving into the wall proudly, leading back up to the surface. He was trembling slightly in anticipation, the constant tension of being in the lab starting to make him restless. His boots found purchase on the stairs carefully, not wanting to have to grab onto the blood-crusted railing to steady himself. 

The hallways on the ground level were just as empty as those below, and while Taehyung was glad not to have to run into any Hungries, it worried him that he hadn’t seen any indication of the others. Were they outside? Still in the building? There was no way of telling. 

The final hallway stretched out before them, and Taehyung felt himself take a breath of relief. He followed closely behind Yoongi, who himself had a hand clenched in Jin’s jacket. They were close, but it would be foolish to let their guard down. It wasn’t until they were back out in the night air and the door clicked behind them that Taehyung allowed his body to relax, slowly folding onto the ground. He was exhausted, both mentally and physically. 

“Where are the others?” There was clear worry in Jin’s voice and he spun to face Namjoon, hands gripping his wrist. “Joon, they aren’t here.”

“They’re still in the lab.” The worry in Jin spread to Yoongi, although there was a good chance that he already housed his own. “They must be. We have to go back in.”

“What?” Namjoon stared down at the both of them wide-eyed. “We just got out. You want to go back? We wouldn’t even know where to look.”

“So? We have to at least try.” Yoongi glowered up at him, his voice dropping. “You would go back if it was Jin.”

“That- that’s different and you know it.”

“Is it?”

“Stop it, both of you.” Jin’s scolding left the two men in silence, though it could not stop the glares that were sent in either direction. “Namjoon, we can’t just leave them.”

“We don’t know if they’re still inside, if they’re even still alive.”

“But-”

“No.” The word was snarled, authority ringing in the single syllable. “If Yoongi,” Namjoon jabbed his finger in the man’s direction, “wants to go back into that hell hole, he can go ahead. But I am not going to risk you. If it were me in there I would want you to continue on without me.” He turned to Yoongi now, towering over the smaller man with a ferocity in his eyes that was not to be argued with. “We are going to find shelter. Stay or come, it’s up to you, but this discussion is over.” He paused, seeming to remember Taehyung on the ground, who had been watching the dispute silently, torn. “The same goes with you.”

There was a tense silence that followed his words, and Taehyung looked over to see Yoongi standing, trembling. There was pure hatred in his gaze as he locked eyes with Namjoon, and then he spun on his heel, marching back over to the door pointedly. He halted in front of it, not even turning when he spoke. “Open it.”

“Yoongi…” Jin’s voice was soft, fragile. His eyebrows drew together, and Taehyung could see the conflict strewn across his features.

“ _Open it!_ ” The words were too loud in the night, too broken in the quiet slumber of the city. His hands fisted by his sides, but it did not stop their shaking. Taehyung felt sick. Yoongi spun to face Jin, face contorted in anger and mouth open to speak, but froze. His eyes left Jin to stare at something over his shoulder, and Taehyung craned his neck, looking to see what had gotten his attention.

“Oh, thank god.” Taehyung wasn’t sure if it was him that whispered the words or Jin, but either way he pushed himself to his feet, stumbling forward to greet the three figures jogging in their direction.

“Yoongi?” Hoseok’s voice echoed over the concrete. He was followed by Jimin and Jungkook, their faces a chorus of relief and awe. Yoongi recoiled from the door as it were vile, turning just in time to open his arms to Hoseok, who rushed into his embrace. The two of them sunk down onto the ground, pressed so tightly together that it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. “Yoongi, oh my god, you- you’re okay.” His voice was broken, muffled as he pressed his face into the others neck. “When we got separated I thought… oh my god.”

Yoongi hushed him, hands stroking Hoseok’s back gently. Taehyung looked away, abashed at having witnessed such an intimate moment. He felt a squeeze on his shoulder and looked up to see Jimin walking by, reaching out to take Jin’s offered hand. Jimin quickly fell into conversation with Namjoon, each explaining what had happened in the time that they were separated in hushed voices.

An odd feeling washed over Taehyung, something related to relief, he supposed, at seeing the group back together, mismatched as they were. Like it or not, they had become his new normal, and one that he felt a certain desire to protect.

A last pair of footsteps padded up beside him, and unlike Jimin’s, they stopped at his side. He glanced up to see Jungkook, though the boy did not at first look down at him, watching the reunion of the others. When at last he did, there was something soft in his eyes, though it was quickly masked when he was greeted with Taehyung’s scowl.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Jungkook answered quickly, his voice jumping up in surprise. He took a breath before continuing, cautious. “It’s just- I… I’m glad you’re okay.”

The answer was not what Taehyung expected. He stayed silent for a moment, processing the words, before sighing himself. The new normal, like it or not. “Yeah,” he grumbled, “I’m glad you’re alright too.”


	8. Quarantine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies I was planning on posting this last night but I stayed at a friends house and I'm not also contemplating posting the next chapter tomorrow because I have so much studying to do for my next test that idk when Ill have time again *n*

_May 12_  
_Some of the boys suggested that I start keeping a journal to track my thoughts and prevent myself from going crazy, so here I am. I probably won’t be able to keep it anyways, security protocol and such. I haven’t been to the surface in three months. The government doesn’t want to risk any contamination getting out into the city while we work, although all of the viruses we have on site are sterilized so there isn’t really a risk. Oh well, I don’t really mind, but I do miss the feeling of sunshine on my skin. I never realized how much I enjoyed it until now._

_May 13_  
_Work keeps me busy. Many of our subjects died, and quite a few showed extraordinary symptoms before and at the time of their death. As interesting as it may be, I cannot let myself lose focus. Dead bodies are not what we are going for, and the more of our test subjects suffer that fate, the more I can feel my colleagues begin to lose hope in our project. But I refuse to give up._  
_We have recently received new samples of the prototype virus from our sister lab in Busan, and everyone is buzzing in excitement to begin working with it. I think they are just sick of working with the old one. I can’t blame them though, even I get frustrated when, no matter what variables we alter, the result is the same. Corpse after corpse after corpse._  
_We are so close to a breakthrough, I can feel it. I refuse to give up. These new samples might just be what we need. I can almost smell the Nobel prize now! Dr. Kwon Jiyong (and co), curer of Alzheimer’s! Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?_

_May 24_  
_I forgot all about my journal! It was only once my associate Youngbae asked me about it that I remembered. It has been so busy since the implementation of the new viruses. Unfortunately, things have not gone as well as hoped. While this new strain seems to have halted the progression of the brain’s deterioration, there are serious side effects which were not present in any other strains and quite unexplainable. Further research is required._  
_Our test subjects are not doing well. Many have fevers and are vomiting blood. We have quarantined them to prevent possible contamination to staff. It seems that my hopes for visiting the surface are diminishing more and more each day, but I will not let it discourage me._  
_We conducted a conference call with the Busan lab to discuss results. They warned us to keep the subjects incarcerated, as it appears that the virus, once thought sterile, was simply dormant and susceptible to reactivation within a human host. A peculiar finding indeed._

_May 26_  
_All of our subjects are dead. This is quite possibly the biggest disappointment we have faced, as it looked like we were truly making progress. Busan advised us to discontinue research, but we refuse to let them steal the spotlight. Tomorrow we will remove the bodies and restart our research with fresh test subjects. I plan on splicing the genome of Busan’s viral DNA with that of our own. At this point it is a shot in the dark, but I am willing to try and try until I can no longer. One of these strains will be it, I just have to figure out which one._

_May 27_  
_Incredible! One of the subjects that we thought dead appears to have been in a mere coma! In the presence of our guards, who planned on escorting the body to the incinerator, he awoke from his coma. He appeared very confused and lacked some motor functions and coordination. The most notable trait, however, was how hostile he was. He was manic and attacked the guard, roughed him up pretty good. The guard is now being taken to a hospital above ground to get proper medical attention. He gets to go outside the lab for the price of a few stitches? Perhaps I will volunteer to escort the next body, then. Ha!_

_July 12_  
_Again, I have forgotten about my journal. This, time however, it is more grave news that has kept me from writing. Busan has had a contamination leak, and the virus has managed to escape outside the lab. The results have been horrific. We still do not know the entirety of the situation, as communications have been limited, but countless have died in the city. Worse, it appears that the virus somehow reanimates its hosts post-death and continues to proliferate. We do not know much of the virus, only that it spreads through bodily fluids. We will continue research at our lab to learn more about this virus, as well as what we can do to contain it._

_July 15_  
_Busan has been compromised. All cities surrounding have been evacuated, and military force has been engaged to try and stem the infection rate. The lab has informed us that they will continue research for as long as possible and urge us to do the same. As if we needed any encouraging.  
But perhaps exhaustion and frustration has made me cynical. If I were to name our hope, it would be a handful of strains that we have managed to isolate which have predominant mutations in the viral genome which may be translated to phenotypic and behavioral traits. _

_July 21_  
_I have received correspondence from Busan. Their lab is too far gone to continue research, and as such they will be sending a handful of scientists escorted by military officers to help us continue ours. I am hoping to already have a solution by then, as I find myself to be quite territorial of my lab, and I do not wish for outsiders to work along-side me in my research._

_July 22_  
_There was a breach in the west half our building, and we had to shut down all access points and hallways to prevent the units- what the labs have collectively decided to call these… things, for lack of better word- from attacking the rest of the lab. There were only a handful of units that escaped but dozens and dozens of my colleagues, security guards, janitors, and more were in the wings when they were quarantined. We could hear them banging on the doors, begging to be let out. We could not take such a risk. Eventually they stopped banging. Every now and then I will hear someone screaming from that side of the lab, but it too stops. Eventually._

_July 24_  
_I have done it. I have managed to isolate the 3113 strand of the ADRI virus and implement it in the few test subjects I still have left. The results were unlike any previous strand. I have made contact with Busan and detailed the effects of my discovery. I know it is not the solution they hoped for, but it is the next best thing, and at this point ‘the next best’ is all we have.  
Another part of the lab had to be shut down, but I will persist. I will continue my research for as long I am able. I will try to look for a better solution._

_August 7_  
_I have not been to the surface in so long, I did not realize how much of an epidemic the ADRI virus had become. It is now nationwide, and I pray for any survivors that are carving out life where they can._  
_One of my closest friends that I had here in the lab killed himself today. He was an officer. He told me of his intentions, and I tried to talk him out of it. Then he told me of the true weight of the situation, and I understood_.  
_How could I have been so ignorant? All this time, I was worried about how far this infection would go. I was worried it would become a global epidemic. Not so. The world, it seems, has shut us off, locked us in. The entire country is in quarantine. Our border is closed and guarded with the united might of multiple countries. Any ship or plane seen to leave our land is shot down on sight, and all survivors are murdered. No help is coming; we must help ourselves_.  
_I can see how such a thought would drive a man to suicide._

_August 12_  
_I have decided to stop waiting. My existence has become pitiful: skulking around my bunker, slowly leeching off my reserves of food. I have not properly slept in days, and what little sleep I do get is filled with nightmares. I do not even know if the Busan scientists are still alive, if they are still coming for me. Those who leave our lab do not return. I pray that they have found peace._  
_As for me, I have put ADRI-3113 in a containment unit where it will be safe. Call me a fool, but I still harbor the smallest bit of hope that someone is coming, and I do not wish for their journey to be in vain._  
_This lab is falling apart piece by piece. I suspect it is not long until all sections are infected, and I refuse to die like a dog cowering in a hole.  
No, I will see the sun. One last time. _

~ ~ ~

The journal flew through the air before connecting with Namjoon’s cheek, flopping onto the dining room table that the group had condensed around. Finding actual houses that weren’t locked was a surprisingly rare occurrence; apparently the urge to lock one’s doors persisted even in the face of apocalyptic danger. Namjoon paused, mid-chew, to look at Taehyung with wide eyes. “What the fuck?”

“It’s you’re fucking fault!” There was malice in Taehyungs voice that had never been present before, and it drew the attention of everyone in the group. Jimin pushed himself to his feet quickly, placing himself in front of Taehyung with his hands held up. Taehyung’s eyes found Jin, who was too shocked to chastise his language. “Both of you. This is all your fault!”

He took a step towards Namjoon, not quite sure what he intended to do, but hands wrapped themselves around his arm, holding him back. “Taehyung, calm down.” It was Hoseok’s voice that came from behind him, his grasp gentle but unyielding. “What is their fault?”

“This.” Taehyung threw his hands up, gesturing to the general space around them. “All of this. The hungries. It was _his_ lab that made them.” He pointed to Jin, who barely had the mind about him to blink at the accusation, mouth dropping into a small ‘o’ as his eyebrows pinched together. 

“Where did you get this?” Namjoon picked up the journal, flipping it open. His eyes scanned the contents, face hardening into am impassive mask. But Taehyung could see through it, see the worry and guilt in his eyes. 

“Back at the lab,” Taehyung sneered. It had been three days since they had escaped. Taehyung had been too scared to read the journal on the first, forgot about it on the second, and had only now caved in, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Were you ever planning on telling us the truth? Or is your pride too much to admit what you’ve done?”

Jin and Namjoon glanced at one another. Neither dared answer the question.

“Is this true?” Jungkook pushed himself to his feet as he spoke, sauntering over to stand beside Taehyung, who for once was too mentally preoccupied to mind his proximity. “Did you really make the Rots?” There was hurt in his voice, the same hurt that Taehyung felt in his chest. Betrayal, deceit. 

“Yes,” Jin answered at last. His voice was broken. Taehyung wasn’t sure if it was a ruse or not. “Yes, I had a hand in making them. Everyone at the lab did. But it wasn’t on purpose, we would never make something like _that_ on purpose, we were only trying to help.”

“Trying to play hero, you mean.”

“We were trying to do _good_.” Jin looked at all of them. Taehyung and Jungkook’s anger, Jimin and Hoseok’s pain, Yoongi’s disgust. Nobody had come this far unscathed, they had all lost someone. It was the sacrifice for survival, a burden they had to take on in order to stay alive. “We were trying to cure a disease. None of us knew what was going to happen, none of us knew that the virus-”

“-was alive,” Taehyung interrupted, voice harsh. “ _dormant and susceptible to reactivation_ , right? That’s what the journal said.” He shook his head, mouth twisting with all the words he wanted to say. “You should have stopped there. You should have known better. But you were greedy, and look there it got you, look what you’ve _done_.” 

Jin blinked, his eyes glassy, unable to form words. Was this the first time someone truly confronted him, the first time he had to justify his means? Taehyung didn’t care. 

“That’s enough.” Namjoon seemed to sense Jin’s vulnerability and spoke up for him. His voice was distant, political. “Do you think we don’t realize this? We’re living it, just like you.” He looked around the room, connecting with each set of eyes. “Mistakes were made, and there is no taking them back. All we can do is look to the future, try to make it right. Why do you think we’re risking our lives walking across this god forsaken country?” He stood, closing the space between him and Taehyung and staring down at him with, for once, kind eyes. “We have to get Jin to Incheon; it is the only hope we have.”

Taehyung felt the tears form in his eyes, his throat burning. “Tell them.” The words came out broken, but he didn’t care. He was sick of the deception. “Tell them about the border, tell them how survivors are being murdered.”

Namjoon hesitated, seemingly thrown off that Taehyung knew that much. For once the power had been torn from his hands, the knowledge lain out to be scrutinized. His eyes lingered on Taehyung’s face for a moment more before he acknowledged the rest of the group, voice steady but slow. “This country is on lockdown. Nobody can enter, and nobody can leave. The border is closed, and the military has been ordered to neutralize anyone who tries to escape. It is for the good of the Earth; we cannot allow ADRI to reach any further than it already has.” He paused again, seemingly testing Taehyung, unsure of how much he knew. 

“If you no longer wish to assist us in our journey, I will understand,” Jin spoke up, still seated but having managed to compose himself slightly. “If you want to walk away, you can. But I plan on getting to Incheon even if it kills me.” He looked around, eyes finding each face in sequence. “There is something that you all need to know, something that even the Gwangju lab was not aware of.” His eyes met Namjoon’s for a moment before he continued. “Yes, the borders are closed, but if you think that that is the extent to which the world will go to protect itself, you are wrong. If we don’t get the cure to Incheon,” he swallowed, “then this whole country is going to get purged.”


	9. Enmity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello I'm back, as promised, but posting this now instead of later because I got a day full of studying and I know Ill be too brain dead to later.
> 
> Editing this chapter took me by surprise, I can't believe we're already at this part of the plot. We're almost halfway done this fic. They grow up so fast ;n;

“What?” Multiple voices sounded in unison. 

“Define purged.” Yoongi’s eyes narrowed.

“It’s exactly what you think it is.” Jin gesticulated abstractly as he spoke. “Bombings, military squads, every country focusing its fire power to exterminate every living- and dead- thing in this country.”

“That’s tens of millions of people,” Jimin whispered. 

“Not anymore. Units outnumber humans a hundred-fold by this point, if not more.”

“It’s genocide!”

“It’s sanitation.”

“These are _people_.”

“Enough.” Namjoon silenced them both. “Debating the ethics of it won’t help us now.” His hand came up to run through his hair. He looked exhausted. “Jin and I are continuing on tomorrow morning. Whether or not you are coming with is up to you. Sleep on it.” With that he spun, striding out of the room with Jin following quietly behind. Usually they would all sleep together, but Taehyung assumed that they wanted to give space to the others, let them think and decide in peace. In their absence, silence reigned; Yoongi and Hoseok crept off together in the direction of one of the bedrooms, Jimin doing the same after one more worried look at Taehyung.

Only Jungkook was supposed to be on first watch, but after the confrontation Taehyung found himself unable to sleep. He laid on the couch- there weren’t enough beds for all of them, but even a couch was a luxury to sleep on at this point- for an hour before he gave up, pulling himself into a sitting position and squinting around the room. Jungkook had dragged one of the dining chairs to the window in the living room that overlooked the front yard of the house and was staring out of it blankly. Taehyung considered staying quiet, but decided that he could no longer stand staring up at the ceiling; it seemed like it was starting to taunt him.

“Are you gonna go with them?” 

If his voice startled Jungkook, the boy didn’t show it. He merely blinked at the window for a few more second before turning to look at Taehyung, though there wasn’t much to see in the growing light. “Are you?”

“I asked you first.”

Jungkook’s mouth twisted slightly. “I don’t know. I want to help, and it’s not like I would have anywhere to go anyways, but…” he sighed, trailing off for a moment before he was able to think up the words. “I can’t get over the fact that they didn’t tell us about any of this. It really made me question their authority. I feel like there’s more that they aren’t telling us.”

“That’s obvious.” Taehyung swung his legs off the couch and stretched. “These government twats have perfected the art in saying just enough to make you trust them while still withholding the most important information.” He shook his head. “For all we know we could bring Jin all the way to Incheon and then him and Namjoon get into the lab and leave us outside.”

“They wouldn’t do that.” There was a quiet uncertainty in Jungkook’s voice when he spoke, as if he had never even considered that such a thing was a possibility. He probably hadn’t. Jungkook had been trusting, blindly so, even more than Taehyung. 

“Wouldn’t they?” A smirk crept onto Taehyung’s face, slightly proud that he seemed to be scaring Jungkook, or at least unnerving him. “What use would they have for us once they get to the lab? They have the military guarding the place. It’s not like they would need our help, and I don’t quite fancy being a test subject, do you?”

The question sat between them for a minute, Jungkook thinking silently before speaking. “So you aren’t going with them, then?”

“I am.”

“Oh.” Jungkook stared at Taehyung, a silent prompt for him to continue. Instead, Taehyung rose, lumbering to the dining room and returning with a chair in tow. He positioned it beside Jungkook’s and sunk into it, looking out the window that the other had been studying so intently. Still not much to see.

“We’re fucked no matter what.” A cloud drifted in front of the sun, just barely having poked its face above the horizon, darkening the street. “If we all leave them and they don’t make it to Incheon, we die. If we go with and get infected on the way, we die. If we make it to the lab and they don’t let us in, we die. If we are allowed in then, well,” he shrugged, “we are left trying to rebuild for the rest of our lives. You think it will be all fine and dandy once we get the cure out? This country is in shambles. Millions dead, an economic flatline, infrastructure gone to shit.” Taehyung shook his head in disgust, his hair tickling his eyes. He ought to cut it. “This will take years, _decades_ , to fix. Maybe this country isn’t worth saving.”

“You’re wrong.” There was a certain defiance in Jungkook’s voice, a new-found bravado that Taehyung had never before heard. “And you know it. Otherwise you wouldn’t still be trying to get to the lab.” Taehyung could see Jungkook looking at him from the corner of his eye but did not turn to face him. The cloud in front of the moon moves on, and the street was bathed in its pale light. “We have a chance to do something good for once, to rebuild this country better than it was before.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“Isn’t this what you wanted? A second chance, an opportunity for something greater, a better life.”

“ _Wanted?_ ” Taehyung repeated venomously. “You think I wanted to watch people die around me like flies? You think I wanted to have to choose between starvation and risking my life every night I search for food? That I wanted to wake up every morning and have to wonder if today is the day that I am going to die?”

“That’s not what I meant.” Jungkook recoiled at the words, his voice faltering. 

Taehyung turned to look at him at last, lip curled into a sneer. “No, it is. It’s exactly what you fucking meant because you’re so fucking pompous that you think this life is better than the one I had before, that it’s better to be dead than poor.”

“Tae, I-”

“Keep your pity. I don’t want it.” Taehyung pushed himself onto his feet and stomped to the front door, closing it behind him softly but mentally slamming it. The dawn air was cold, the dimness imposing, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay out for long. Still, his pride and anger made him persist, sitting in front of the house for half an hour without looking back through the window. When he finally did, hands numb and shivering violently, Jungkook was gone.

~ ~ ~

If Namjoon held any surprise upon discovering that nobody had left the next morning, he managed to hide it well. They set off as if the previous night had never even happened, nobody bringing it up, but Taehyung could sense a new tension in the group. Yoongi, already having been skeptical, began to outright question Namjoon, demanding reasoning for any decision that was even slightly dangerous. Taehyung supposed it was fair, after all that had happened, but that didn’t stop Namjoon from getting increasingly irritated at the barrage of questions. More than once was he stopped just short of snapping at Yoongi by Jin’s hand on his arm, who himself was under scrutiny.

Jungkook stayed far from Taehyung. Good. The boy stuck to Jimin’s side, the two of them trailing behind the group and talking too softly to hear. Taehyung wondered what he was saying, how he was twisting his words. He wanted to see Jimin’s face, see if the man was taking Jungkook’s side, but looking back would be too obvious and his pride forbade it. 

“How are you holding up?” Hoseok’s voice came from Taehyung’s left, and he realized the man had fallen back from the front of the group to join him. Of everybody, he seemed the least soured by the revelation of the truth. Maybe he had already guessed. Maybe he just didn’t care. 

“Good.” It was an odd question. How well could anybody be holding up, considering the circumstances? Taehyung was alive, and that was all anyone could really ask for. ‘Good’ was relative. 

“Good, good.” He walked beside Taehyung for a while more in silence, and Taehyung could sense the question coming before it was even said. “So do you want to talk about what happened?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” He shrugged. “I’m still here, aren’t I? If Namjoon and Jin want to have secrets, let them. They never promised to be forthcoming, so why should we expect it of them? I don’t care.”

“Well, that’s an obvious lie.” Hoseok snorted. “But as much as I’d love to get into it with you, that wasn’t what I was talking about.”

Taehyung blinked in surprise. “Oh?” He glanced to the side. Hoseok wasn’t looking at him, instead looking over his shoulder where Jungkook and Jimin surely followed. Taehyung’s mouth twisted. “Oh.”

“Did something happen between you two?”

“No.” The word was said too quickly, too harshly, and Taehyung could tell Hoseok noticed. “We’ve always hated each other, it’s nothing new.”

“ _Each other?_ ” Hoseok echoed, humour in his voice. “I’m pretty sure it’s a one-way street, kid.” A smile slithered across his face, and Taehyung wondered what he knew. “But even you seem more hostile, and those two have been gossiping all night. So what happened?”

“What’s that word you use for the hungries?” Taehyung said suddenly, changing the topic. “Aja? Enja?”

“Njaa?” Hoseok corrected, mouth turning down in the corners in a non-committal pout. “I watched a documentary once about lion prides in Africa. Njaa means hunger- or hungry, I can’t remember- in Swahili. One of the prides was named the Njaa because they liked to hunt buffalo. The Njaa pride is vicious; they would attack the other prides. Even if they were outnumbered.” He whistled in awe, shaking his head. “Buffalo, though, can you imagine that? Huge beasts, dangerous too; buffalo can kill lions just like that.” He snapped his fingers in emphasis. “And yet, the Njaa still hunted them. Utterly fearless cats, I tell you.”

“Sounds like the hungries,” Taehyung agreed. 

“What about you? Why settle on ‘hungries’? Aside from the obvious, of course.”

“They’re just…” Waving his hands abstractly, Taehyung paused, considering the best way to translate his thoughts into reasoning. “Desperate, you know? You can dismember a Hungry and it will still come after you. It reminded me of people I met on the street, before this country went to shit. The desperation. Hunger does that to a person. People will do anything to secure a meal.” He swallowed, fighting back a shudder as memories flickered on the edge of his vision. “ _Anything_.”

The word silenced Hoseok, who seemed not to know how to reply to such an admission. Taehyung glanced over to see his face scrunched in thought and apprehension, just briefly, before he cleared his throat and replaced the expression with his usual light grin. “Jin and Namjoon call them units.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“I think it’s a defense mechanism.” Taehyung raised an eyebrow, prompting Hoseok to continue. “It’s easier to see them as… inhuman that way. As objects, experiments. I guess it would be hard to look around and see a bunch of dead people knowing you are the one that killed them.”

Taehyung grunted, the explanation sensible but irking. “Jimin calls them Nibblers.”

“Childish word for them, isn’t it? Makes me think-”

“That it’s the word he used with his students?” Taehyung finished, feeling a certain anguish blossom in his chest at the thought. A glance at Hoseok proved he felt the same way. Neither pursued the idea any further, and soon Hoseok left him to rejoin Yoongi, who had started to look back at the two of them every now and then, quite obviously wanting his man back. 

Taehyung did not move to join either the group in front or behind, wanting the solitude to piece together his thoughts. The eastern sky was just beginning to lighten, and Namjoon informed them that they would be finding shelter on the edge of Jeonju. 

As they breached the threshold of the city, the group slowly condensed together. It was unfamiliar territory, after all, and cities always had a higher element of danger than the spaces between them, even on the outskirts. A higher population before meant a higher population after, though what was populating them had changed from living to dead. Each conversation sputtered to its end as they passed the first few buildings, their voices beginning to echo off of concrete instead of being hushed by shrubbery. 

“We should find shelter quickly.” There was a strain in Namjoon’s voice as he eyed the sky, the deep blue-black fading into lighter hues. “As soon as we start to see houses we’ll-”

His sentence was cut sort with a thump, everyone freezing in their tracks as a man stepped out of the shadows, a gun held tightly in his hands. Namjoon staggered, a hand coming up to cup his forehead.

“No sudden moves.” The man snarled, answered with silence from everyone except Namjoon himself, who grunted in pain. Taehyung could see a drop of blood slip through his fingers and fall to the ground. “Place any weapons you have on the ground and kick them here.” He gestured to the gun on Yoongi’s hip; Jimin’s gun, which had made its way into more competent hands. 

“That means now.” Another voice came from behind them, followed by the sound of a barrel being cocked. Namjoon was first to reach down by his hip and toss his forward, and the action was permission enough for the rest to follow suit. The two men gathered up the weapons, shoving them in one of their backpacks and proceeding to pat the group down and search their bags.

“Clear.” The first man rose, throwing the final bag back at its owner- Jungkook, who nearly yelped as he caught it. A small, joyless smile pulled across the man’s face. “Let’s go.”

“We’re not going anyfuckingwhere with you.” Yoongi took a threatening step towards the man, who seemed unfazed. The smile widened.

“I’m not asking.” He shifted his gun in his hands, the metal glinting off the dim light. “This thing is the least of your worries. It’s what it’ll attract that’ll be your problem, and I don’t think you can run very far with a shattered kneecap.” He paused, letting the threat soak into the air. “Your choice, pumpkin.” 

For a moment, Taehyung thought Yoongi would strike the man. He certainly looked it; entire body tense, fists white-knuckled at his sides. Then he exhaled, breathing heavily out through his nose, and it was decided.

“Lovely. Let’s get a move on. It’s at least a half hour walk to the nest, and I don’t want to be out in the open when the Nomads wake up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter has the daddiest of all daddies in it I'm excited


	10. Turbulence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this before class and I feel like icarus trying to proofread quickly and flying too close to the time I have to leave or else Ill miss my bus so sorry if there are mistakes I'm screaming.
> 
> anyways

‘Nest’ was an understatement. The camp was more like a fortress; three of its walls were what seemed to be apartment complexes, or perhaps office buildings, framing a once lush but now dead courtyard filled with yellow grass and the leafless skeletons of bushes. Its final wall was two semi-trailer trucks backed against each other, their windows smashed and engines quiet. They had a different purpose now, it seemed, and were humbled by their new position.

The corners of the nest- the areas of the perimeter not occupied by trucks or buildings- were filled with all sorts of debris: cars, pieces of concrete, wood, snippets of fence, all packed into dams twice as tall as any human that lived within them. It was a castle, the only way in or out being the shaky rope ladder hanging off one of the trucks, which they each climbed in turn, lead and followed by their escorts.

The men lead them through the courtyard towards the furthest building, the thinnest of the three but also the tallest. As they drew near a gentle cascade of voices filtered through one of the shattered windows, though there was no telling what they were saying. 

The taller of the two entered the building first, gesturing for them to follow. Namjoon hesitated, glancing back at his group. This was bad. Really fucking bad. Taehyung knew, and he assumed everyone else did as well. But as he felt the hard snub of a gun press against his shoulder, smelled its bitter metallic scent, he realized that they had no other choice. Namjoon watched the silent threat and seemed to realize it to. He stood for a second more, then turned, disappearing into the building with Jin close behind.

Inside seemed better taken care of than the courtyard, but marginally so. Leaves and dirt littered the ground of the lobby, crunching underfoot as they made their way down one of the hallways to an open door, the sounds of voices clear enough for Taehyung to tell they were arguing.

“Our last two scouts came up with nothing. This area can no longer support us.”

“You simply aren’t looking hard enough.” 

“There is nothing left to look _for_. We can relocate to another place in the city; it doesn’t have to be far. Just enough that we can scavenge new districts. Parts that have untapped resources that we cannot venture to without risking being caught in daylight.”

“Look around you. Where in the city will we be as safe as we are here? Relocate? Do you expect to rebuild what we have? Who could do it? You?” Silence. “I didn’t think so.”

“Sir,” one of their escorts interrupted, slipping into the room, “We found… people.”

There was a pause, a flicker of inaudible murmurs. 

“Where?”

“Edge of the city.”

“Armed?”

“Not Anymore.”

Another pause.

“Bring them in.”

They obeyed- not that there was any other option- and filed in. Inside the room sat four men in a half-circle around a low table. They fell silent as their guests entered, narrowed yet curious eyes watching their every move. Taehyung felt a hand on his shoulder and he was pushed to his knees, everyone else following suit or, in the case of Yoongi, getting shoved down as well. Taehyung dropped his eyes, feeling his heart pound in his ears and praying that his fear wasn’t obvious. He could feel Jungkook trembling beside him, barely-audible whimpers sounding now and then from the boy’s throat. 

Taehyung didn’t dare lift his eyes, instead fixing his gaze on the tables short legs. They had an odd, concave shape to them, though the ends were bulged and rounded. It was a familiar shape, surprisingly, one that was reminiscent of science classes spent on human anatomy, and a pit formed in Taehyung’s stomach as he realized what they were, fighting down a gag. Bones. The table was held up by bones; thick, long femurs so crusted with dirt that they had lost their pale colour and at first glance seemed akin to their wooden table top. 

“Enjoying the décor?” A voice bought his gaze up at last, and his eyes met those of the man seated at the end of the table. His features were sharp, eyes feline, and the look they held spoke of violence and bloodshed. His black hair was cropped short, and what remained was slicked back messily. A knife glinted in his hands as he played with it absentmindedly. A wicked grin was gouged out of his face, and Taehyung wondered, if just for a moment, whether the teeth within would be sharp. “Us survivors, we use what we can, the resources we have access to.” He reached forward, digging the tip of the knife into the table and spinning it in a circle. Wooden shavings curled up from the wound.  
“Nowadays, death is cheap.” He dropped his eyes to his handiwork, regarding it the way a cat would regard a bird under its paws. “It’s life which is expensive, life that really costs you.”

“We don’t want any trouble.” Namjoon’s gruff voice spoke up from the end of the line. “We were just passing through.”

“Oh?” The man tilted his head. “Where are you headed.”

“Nowhere in particular. Just trying to survive.”

The man was quiet for a second, and Taehyung tensed, wondering if he saw through the lie. But then he stood up, a laugh bellowing from his chest. “Aren’t we all?” His tone was jovial, and the change sent a shudder through Taehyung. It was so obviously fake, and he wondered what the man’s true feelings and intentions were. “Come, I’m sure you are exhausted. We’ll set you up with some rooms for the night and have a proper discussion in the morning.”

At his cue, the rest of the seated men rose, each wearing a flat, tired expression. Taehyung trusted it more than the welcoming smile. The man helped Namjoon to his feet, dusting him off and asking who had caused the gash on his head. He threw a command over his shoulder for one of the others to attend to the injury, but Taehyung did not think that the cut would actually get any medical attention. 

They were split into groups and escorted by the men back out into the courtyard and into one of the other buildings, which had a hallway of bedrooms. So it had been a hotel after all.

Taehyung shuffled into his room, followed by Namjoon, who immediately lurched over to the bed and sat down on it, huffing out a sigh. The door as shut behind them, followed by a click which Taehyung assumed was a lock, given that the door did not budge when he tried to open it.

“I don’t like this.” Taehyung sank beside Namjoon, his eyes adjusting to the dimness of the room.

“Me neither.”

“That man doesn’t seem right in the head.”

“None of them do.”

“I wonder if he’ll actually let us go.”

“Dunno.”

“Namjoon,” Taehyung snapped, his hands grasping onto the man’s arm. “Can’t you say anything? Please?”

“What am I supposed to say?” He didn’t try to shake off Taehyung’s grasp, but did not look at him either, his voice emotionless. “What do you expect me to do? They have all our weapons, we’re locked in a room, and the rest of us are fuck knows where, probably also locked in their own rooms. So what, exactly, am I supposed to say?”

“That you have a plan!” Tears pricked Taehyung’s eyes, though whether they were born from frustration or hopelessness he was unsure. “That you are going to get us out of this! That you know what to do!”

“Well, I don’t.” There was no pain in Namjoon’s voice, just a hollow resignation. “I have no idea how we’re going to get out of this.”

“But-”

“Just go to sleep. Worrying about it will get us nowhere, and we will want to be well rested for whatever we must face tomorrow.” He rose, lumbering to the other bed and collapsing onto it, kicking off his shoes and letting his bad thump to the floor. 

Taehyung watched his body, soft breaths and the occasional snore the only sound in the room. Namjoon was right, but try as me might, Taehyung could not sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed, unable to get comfortable. The backs of his eyelids were painted with nightmares and monsters of both the living and dead kind. 

Eventually, weariness began to weigh on his body, but just as he was beginning to sink into the silky embrace of slumber, the door rattled. His eyes shot open, but he didn’t move, just listening to the sounds of someone shuffling into the room. The door was shut once more, the lock clicked, and footsteps padded away outside in the hallway. 

A sniffle is what made Taehyung sit up. He squinted. “Jimin?”

“Oh, you’re still awake.” He cleared his throat, trying and failing to hide the fact that he was crying.

“Where were you? What’s wrong?”

“It’s… nothing.” Jimin kicked off his shoes, sitting on the edge of Taehyung’s bed and staring at the ground, alike to the way Namjoon had been not even an hour prior. And, like Namjoon, Jimin’s voice was broken, wobbling slightly on the few vowels that escaped his mouth.

“It’s obviously not.” Taehyung paused, letting them fall into a silence interrupted only by Namjoon’s snores. “Did- did they do anything to you? Did they hurt you?”

“No.” The answer came quickly, too quickly, and loud enough that Taehyung wondered if it would rouse Namjoon. It didn’t. “He just... said some stuff. About us. About me.”

“That motherfucker is crazy.” Taehyung half-expected a chiding about his language, but none came. “Don’t listen to anything he has to say.”

The only reply was a hum, a sniffle. Jimin crawled up to the headboard, flopping down on the vacant pillow and staring blankly at the ceiling. Slowly, Taehyung lowered himself back onto the mattress, feeling the new dip that had settled in it under the weight of another. The silence between them returned with a vengeance, stretching for minutes on end until Taehyung was convinced the man had fallen asleep, an assumption which was shattered by his voice once more sounding softly across the bedding.

“What do I do?”

“Hm?”

“What do I _do_?” he repeated. Taehyung didn’t answer, he wasn’t even sure if he knew how to, wasn’t even sure what Jimin was asking. But the man needed no prompting to clarify, slight accusation in his voice. “Joon and Yoongi protect us. Hobi knows medicine. Jin is, well, Jin, and you and Kookie are good at scavenging.”

“First of all, that little worm is _not_ good at scavenging.”

“Yes, he is. He finds stuff all the time, you just don’t see it.”

“Second of all, you are the only one that keeps us from killing each other.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is.”

“Why do you keep me around?”

“Why would we turn you away?”

A pause. A snore. A shuffle of sheets.

“I want a purpose.” Taehyung frowned at the confession. It was an odd thing to admit. He opened his mouth to question it, but Jimin continued before he had a chance. “I want a- a function.”

“You-”

“I want to have benefit to my name.”

“Why?”

“Because what have we left but ourselves? Our names?”

“We have each other.” Footsteps padded closer in the hallway outside. Paused. Padded away. Taehyung rolled over to face Jimin, but the man was turned away. “This world does not give. What you want you must take.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you want a purpose, a function, make one for yourself. Choose something and call it your own. None of us were given our roles, we simply… took them.”

Jimin did not answer, but he did roll to face Taehyung, his eyebrows slightly pinched. But there was a slight twitch to his lips, the ghost of a sad smile, curling in the corner of his mouth. 

A snore. A shuffle. More padding feet. Three sets of breath synching in their deep rhythm, rocked by the lullaby of exhaustion and the promise of longer days to come.

~ ~ ~

Taehyung was shaken awake, the touch gentle but still unwelcome. What little sleep he had gotten had been restless, and his eyes stung as he rubbed the remaining tiredness out of them. Namjoon stood above him, face an impassive mask.

“Door’s open.”

A grumble was Taehyung’s reply. Jimin, it seemed, had already been awake for a while. He sat on Namjoon’s bed, shoving the remaining supplies into his backpack, likely having to reorganize it after it was searched.

Pushing himself to his feet, Taehyung stretched, nose wrinkling in distaste at the feeling of his body. He felt gross, dirty, and wanted nothing more than to plunge himself into the nearest body of water and wash away the days-old sweat and dirt that clung to his skin.

The three of them left the room, not having anything to say as they made their way back through the building and into the courtyard. There was a fire going, around which everyone else was already gathered. A pot, hanging just above the reach of the flames, steamed, and as Taehyung drew near he was greeted with a rich, savoury aroma.

“Ah, you are awake.” The leader of the group stood to greet them a wide smile on his face. “Come, come, sit with us. We will get you a bowl.” He jerked his hand in the direction of one of the others, who stood at the silent command and began spooning out whatever was in the pot into small, chipped bowls. “You rested well, yes?” He didn’t wait for them to answer. “Good, good, come, sit. I believe we got off on the wrong foot yesterday. My name is Jaebum. This is Yugyeom,” he gestured to the man filling the bowls. Taehyung recognized him as the one who had slammed the end of his gun into Namjoon’s head. “Bambam,” the other escort, who didn’t even look up at his name, “Mark, Jackson, and Youngjae.” The smile never faltered and Jaebum spoke, his voice ever cheery, and it sowed and uncertainty in Taehyung’s gut. This was not like the man they had met last night, not in the slightest, and the polarity threw him off, uprooted him. He wasn’t the only one, it seemed; he could feel Jimin’s presence behind him, his hand gripping the back of his arm with a feather-light touch. Taehyung understood the silent plead, moving to the fire slowly so that Jimin could stay close behind him. Jaebum watched them find a place, his smile flickering slightly as Jimin sat as far away as possible.

Taehyung murmured out a thank you as he accepted his bowl, glancing at Namjoon to see if the other ate it. He didn’t.

“What’s in it?” The man instead asked, eyeing the assortment of sliced vegetables and some sort of meat amidst the broth.

“Not people, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Jaebum laughed. Namjoon didn’t. “Just things we could scrounge up. Vegetables from our garden, some rabbit. Rabbit? Jackson, is-”

“It’s rabbit.” Jackson answered before the question had even been asked.

“Rabbit.” The word was said with a sense of accomplishment, finality. 

All eyes were on Namjoon as he regarded the bowl. His gazes flicked between it and the faces around the fire, lingering on Jin for just a moment before he lifted the bowl to his lips and let the broth flow into his mouth. This was enough for Taehyung, who followed suit, and finally Jimin, who instead used his fingers to pick out a few vegetables cautiously. It was under seasoned, but the meat was soft and after days of long treks running on nothing but canned vegetables, it was hearty and welcome. 

They finished their meal quickly, gently refusing offers for seconds. Taehyung’s gaze hung lazily across the fire, watching Jungkook and Jin whisper and some of the men- Taehyung had already forgotten their names- roughhouse. With the distraction of food no longer occupying them, an uncomfortable stalemate settled between them all. 

Namjoon’s eyes were on Jaebum. Jaebum’s eyes were on Jimin, who was refusing to look anywhere but into the dirt and ash on the ground. Yoongi had a tight grasp on Hoseok’s hand, his glaring daggers at anyone who so much as glanced their way. Taehyung found he, too, was the object of someone’s interest, the man- Jackson, wasn’t it? - staring at him with hooded eyes, brows pinched together in what seemed like thought. 

“Well,” Namjoon’s voice brought them all out of the trance. He had a smile on his face, but Taehyung could almost taste its fabrication. “We are very grateful for your hospitality. Thank you for the meal.” He paused, letting the others murmur out thank you’s and general appreciative comments. All fake. “But I wouldn’t want to overextend our welcome, so we really should get going soon so we’ll have time to make some ground before the sun rises.”

“Nonsense.” The eerie grin was back on Jaebum’s face, his voice sickly sweet. “You are more than welcome here. We’re all family. This is the safest place in the city, I assure you.”

“Yes, well, you are probably right, but I know how scarce resources can get, so perhaps it wouldn’t be a good idea to put more strain on the surrounding-”

“No, no, no, it’s no strain at all.” Jaebum stood up, beginning to wander around the circle casually. Taehyung shuddered when he brushed past him, the shift in the air rousing the hairs on his neck. “This city is so dangerous, so overrun with nomads.” He shook his head. “Not safe.”

“I appreciate your concern, but-” Namjoon sputtered off as Jaebum leaned down to pick up a long, thick branch from the ground, turning it in his hands, tossing it up a few inches to feel its weight. Taehyung felt hands wrap around his arm tightly as Jimin pressed into him, eyes wide and locked on the wood.

Silence sat heavy between them, interrupted by only the crackle of the fire, as Jaebum sauntered over to the semi-trucks, silent, slumbering behemoths privileged and burdened with keeping them safe. Jaebum paused for a moment, regarding the branch one more time before swinging it, connecting with the side of the trucks with an echoing _bang_. 

Taehyung flinched at the sound, they all did; how long had it been since they had experienced the luxury of noise, of careless racket? Jaebum huffed, rolling his shoulders and swinging again.

_Bang_

_Bang_

_Bang_

A flinch accompanied each assault. Taehyung’s eyes flicked away from him for just a moment, glancing at the others. Like Jimin, Jungkook had a tight hold on Jin’s arm, shaking ever so slightly and tensing in time with the swings.

The branch, after a few more strikes, snapped, ending Jaebum’s violation of the metal surface. His shoulder’s rose and fell quickly, and for a moment he did nothing but stare at the scratches and dents that were his masterpiece. Another deep breath, and he pushed back his hair, tossing the remaining wood aside without thought and striding back over to the fire. His face was dark as he pushed past, stooping to grab another piece of wood, this one from the fire itself. It carried the flame with it as he held it, turning without another word and going back to the trucks. He paused at the base of the ladder, glancing over his shoulder to the mass of people, each with their eyes trained on him.

“Bring him here.” He growled out the order. Immediately everyone was on their feet, Jaebum’s men holding up their guns, daring any sort of disobedience. One of the men shoved Namjoon forward, keeping his weapon pressed up against his back as they shuffled towards Jaebum, who had begun climbing the ladder, fire in hand. Taehyung took a step after them but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He pushed it off violently, turning to face who the hand belonged to and finding that it was the man who had been staring at him, Jackson.

“Don’t.” Was all he said, voice low. The word was accompanied by a shake of Jackson’s head, and Taehyung turned away from him, disgusted.

Jaebum watched Namjoon’s approach and climb from atop of the truck, wood held high. It was the only light for miles, other than the stars, and Taehyung wondered if he was aware that it was a beacon, a lighthouse drawing in any Hungries in the area in light moths. His stomach twisted as he realized Jaebum was probably fully aware, and aware too that his banging on the truck was like ringing a dinner bell.

Jaebum grabbed Namjoon when he reached the top of the ladder, hand fisting tight onto the back of his shirt and pushing him towards the other edge of the truck.

“No!” The voice sounded out across the clearing, but Taehyung could not tell who it belonged to. Jin? Jungkook? Himself? He did not know.

The word went ignored by Jaebum, who pushed Namjoon even further forward, stopping just before the edge.

“What do you see?” His voice sliced the thick silence of the courtyard in two. Taehyung swallowed thickly, the stew suddenly feeling heavy in his stomach, and he prayed he would be able to hold it down. Jimin was shaking viciously against his chest, his breaths loud, quick. “ _What do you see?_ ” He repeated in growl, shaking Namjoon so that the man had to grab onto Jaebum to keep his balance. “Tell them what you see!”

There was a pause before Namjoon spoke, and in the quiet Taehyung could hear the Hungries: their moans, their nails and bones scratching on the metal, trying to get to the men above them. “Units.” His voice was nearly inaudible, barely able to stretch the distance between him and the fire. “I see units.”

“You want to go so badly? You want to join them?” Jaebum pulled him away from the edge roughly, spinning him to face everyone else. Namjoon’s face was hard, impassible, but he looked so small under Jaebum’s hold, so fragile. “How many are there?”

Namjoon’s eyes drew over the group, lingering on their frightened faces. “Many,” he said, voice empty.

“How many?” Jaebum repeated in a growl.

Namjoon breathed deeply, swallowed. His gaze found Taehyung, not looking away as he spoke. “Too many. Too many to count. Too many to fight.”


	11. A Toast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I uhhhhhhhhh love my son JB even though I know you all likely hate him hes just a lil baby. (a crazy, murderous, psychopathic, remorseless baby, but a baby nevertheless)
> 
> We're now officially more than halfway done this fic! Ahhhhhhh!!!

Taehyung lay unmoving in his bed, eyes burning as they stared blankly into the water damaged ceiling. He was shaken, they all were, his mind replaying Jaebum’s words over and over in his head, forced to relive the fear, the nausea of the moment in a perpetual cycle. Jimin was curled against his side, eyes closed but trembling now and then, indicating that sleep evaded him as well. Jimin likely would have slept in Namjoon’s bed, but the guard that had put him back in their room had added Jin to the mix, and he and Namjoon had been murmuring quietly to one another for the past half hour, words inaudible. 

It was a scare tactic. That’s what Namjoon had told them after the armed man had locked the door and left. Nothing more. After Namjoon had appeased Jaebum, the two had rejoined the rest of them around the fire, silent as Jaebum served himself another bowl of stew, offering it to everyone else with a tight smile. No takers. Taehyung figured anything else he ate would not stay down, and assumed the others felt the same. But there was no harm done, at least not physically, so Namjoon had put on a brave face, letting Jimin cry in his arms and Jin to have a hand on his arm at all times. Impassive. Unfazed. Walking away with nothing more than bruised pride.

But Taehyung could only half believe him, only half ignore the way his voice and hands shook. It was a scare tactic, yes, but it was also a warning. Namjoon had been made an example of, and Taehyung had a hollowing feeling that Jaebum’s mercy was a one-time offer, a coupon that had just been stamped and hole-punched.

The morning light had already begun creeping through the slits between the curtains when they heard a rattling at their door, a familiar click as it was unlocked. Taehyung pushed himself upwards, the blanket pooling in his lap. The knob turned before the door itself swung open, Jackson slipping into the room and shutting it just as quickly.

The four of them regarded their intruder with both curiosity and spite, and he took a breath, not stepping any further into their domain as he saw the malice in their eyes.

“You’re awake.” His voice was low as he spoke, nodding to himself. “I figured.”

“What do you want?” It was Taehyung that answered first, voice gruff, his shoulder tingling as he remembered the feeling of the man’s hand on his shoulder. 

“Easy, now.” Jackson held up his hands in surrender. “I’m not here to be your enemy. The opposite in fact.” A ghost of a grin flickered at the corners of his mouth. “I’m gonna get you guys out of here.”

Namjoon scoffed. “We’re supposed to believe that?”

“If I recall correctly, you had your gun pointed at me, what, less than twelve hours ago?” Taehyung added, shifting as Jimin pushed himself up as well, face quiet but eyes bright.

“Listen, I get it, I don’t look good right now.” Jackson took a step forward, cautious but optimistic now that he had their attention. “But this benefits me as much as it does you, so I have no reason to be lying.”

“How so?” Namjoon had taken up his authority voice, eyes narrowed. Taehyung almost missed it. 

“With the way things are, staying in one place can only support you for a limited amount of time. That time has long since passed, but Jaebum refuses to move on. This camp is a sinking ship, and the captain is more than happy to sink with it.” He paused, letting them absorb his words. “But I’m not. I won’t keep taking riskier and riskier missions to find food.”

“I heard you arguing about this,” Jin hummed, his eyebrows pinching in thought. “The first night, when we got here.”

“Me too,” Taehyung agreed, nodding.

Namjoon glanced over at them briefly but said nothing about the matter. “Why won’t Jaebum agree to leave?”

“Because he’s crazy,” Jimin offered, a rare hint of hatred in his voice.

“You’re not wrong.” Jackson took another step into the room, hoisting himself up onto the dresser sat humbly against the wall across from their beds. The old wood groaned but held. “When the nomads first appeared, there was a bunch of us. Jaebum and his husband, Jinyoung, took the lead pretty quickly, managed to obtain order. We built this camp in the hopes that it would keep us safe, and it did, for a while.”

Taehyung couldn’t remember Jaebum introducing a Jinyoung, and he had a sinking feeling of the direction that Jackson’s story was going.

“But with that many people, we ran out of food fast.” Jackson took a deep breath, his mouth twisting. “We started going out at night to scavenge the surrounding area for food and supplied. Jaebum never went, but Jinyoung did, wanting to be a leader that didn’t just put his men at risk without going into the fire himself. We lost men now and then, it was inevitable, but Jaebum didn’t bat an eye. Said it was a necessary evil, a sacrifice for the good of the community. Until, that is, one outing went particularly sour. Only one man of the six made it back, and it wasn’t Jinyoung.”

Taehyung swallowed. He knew what such a thing could do to someone. He had seen it himself, flickering in Yoongi’s eyes when he thought Hoseok was still in the lab in Gwangju.

“Jaebum killed the man on the spot.” Disgust twisted across Jackson’s face, as if the memories of his witness replayed themselves across his eyes. “He just… killed him. Put a bullet right between his eyes. Like it was nothing.” Jackson took another breath, his jaw clenching and unclenching. “And it probably was, to him. Something changed in him, that day. No one was allowed to leave, and people began to starve. Most snuck out. None came back. I had hoped, at first, that they had made it somewhere safe.” A sad smile curled on his face, and he snorted a single, humorless laugh. “I think we all had hope. Until we started recognizing the clothes that some of the nomads wore.

Eventually there was just us six left. We started going out scavenging again, set up a small garden that could somewhat support us. But now we’ve reaped all we can from this part of the city, and Jaebum still refuses to leave. Maybe he thinks that Jinyoung will still come back. Maybe he’s scared of seeing him on the outside as a nomad, I don’t know, it doesn’t matter. The point is, I want to leave. I’m sick of tiptoeing around him, sick of trying to reason with him when he refuses to see the truth.”

“Why didn’t you leave?” There was perhaps a sliver of sympathy in Jin’s voice as he spoke, the question having been dominating Taehyung’s mind since Jackson began his explanation.

“I would never be able to survive by myself.”

“So you want to join us.”

“If you’ll have me.”

Jin and Namjoon exchanged a look. There still was no guarantee that Jackson was telling the truth, that it wasn’t a setup designed by Jaebum, despite how compelling his story was. But there seemed to be no other option, no way to get them all out. Jackson had access to keys, possibly their weapons. The risk was no greater than the reward. “This just seems so sudden.”

“It isn’t. Not for me, at least. I’ve been wanting to leave for weeks.” Jackson shrugged. “I figured you would want to leave as soon as possible as well. Jaebum is… unstable, and there is no telling when he’s going to go off next.”

Taehyung could see the contemplation in Namjoon’s eyes, the realization, the surrender. “What’s the plan?”

The question kindled a spark in Jackson’s eyes. He nodded, rubbing his hands together in thought. “Most of the work will be on the outside,” He began, voice thoughtful. “I’ll sneak whatever weapons I can while I’m on my rounds and get you after that. It’ll be sometime around dawn. There’s just one problem.”

“What is it?”

“All the shit- guns, ammunition, knives- we keep it locked up.”

“Where’s the key.”

“Jaebum has it.”

Namjoon huffed. “How the hell are we supposed to get it off him, then?”

“He keeps it in his jacket pocket. Get the jacket, get the keys.”

“Great, do you plan on pretending you’re cold and asking for it? This isn’t some bullshit romance movie, he’s not just gonna give-”

“I can get it.” Jimin’s voice was quiet but firm. Taehyung had almost forgotten that he was in attendance, having been so quiet and still beside him in the bed.

“What?” Namjoon blinked at the man, head cocked.

“I’ll get the jacket,” Jimin repeated, louder this time. He turned to Jackson. “If you’re sure the key is in it.”

“I am.” Jackson looked just as confused as Namjoon, a slight frown on his face. “But how will you-”

“Take me to the courtyard before dawn and tell him I want to see him. I’ll make him leave it, then you can get the key.”

“How do you plan on doing that?” There was concern in Namjoon’s voice, the vagueness of Jimin’s claims mixed with his apparent confidence in his ability seeding unease in more than just one gut. Taehyung felt it too, though he could read deeper into Jimin’s words than Namjoon could. After all, it was Taehyung who Jimin had confided into about his feelings of worthlessness, his desperate bid to do something, be someone. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Jimin shrugged, but Taehyung saw through his nonchalance. 

“No.” Taehyung shook his head adamantly, mustering as much authority into his voice as he could. “If you aren’t here when Jackson gets us, how will you get out? How will you find us?”

Jimin was quiet for a moment, seeming to have no real answer for Taehyung’s questions, as he knew he wouldn’t. “The most important thing is getting Jin out. He’s our priority. What happens to me doesn’t matter.”

“Bullshit,” Taehyung growled. “Namjoon, say something. We’re not leaving him.”

“Taehyung is right,” Namjoon said after a moment of contemplation, but the words held no conviction, no resolve, and Taehyung knew he was saying it as a formality. Namjoon was ready to sacrifice anything, any _one_ to get Jin to Incheon. He had said it many times. And perhaps now that he was faced with the situation, now that it was an ally, a friend, on the line, he would have a change of heart, but Namjoon said nothing more on the matter, and his brief statement of agreement with Taehyung was far from enough to satisfy any of them. It didn’t count.

“No, he’s not.” Jimin pushed himself off the bed, standing in the small space between the end of Taehyung’s bed and the dresser which Jackson was still perched on. “We need that key. And sure, let’s say somehow we get the key another way. What is going to happen if Jaebum notices it gone and comes out to look for it? What if he decides to come out for any reason, and sees us? You think he will just admit defeat, let us go? We saw what happened with Namjoon.” He was right, but Taehyung didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to accept the reality so easily. “We need the key, and we need a distraction. I can do both.”

There was no uncertainty around Jimin’s implications anymore. It was impossible to ignore Jaebum’s stares at the man, the hunger in his eyes. And each one of them knew what Jimin meant, what he was willing to give. It was sickening. But it was necessary.

“Jimin…” Namjoon started, but couldn’t seem to finish the sentence. There was nothing to say. No way to counter, but no words of encouragement, no way to support without embracing the reality of the situation.

They sat in silence for a while, Taehyung glaring into the bed sheets and everyone else looking at Jimin, whose gaze was fixed on Taehyung. 

“Well,” Jackson breathed at last, his voice weak. “Let’s just see how the night goes. Nothing is certain yet.” It was a weak lie, a mask that was cracked the moment he spoke it into existence. But it was enough, enough to let them pretend that it wasn’t their only option, that they weren’t actually going to go through with it. Namjoon and Jim murmured out an agreement, also lies. “Until then, you should all get some sleep. No matter what happens, tomorrow will be a day you will want to be well rested for.” He swallowed, letting himself slide off the dresser and thump onto the floor. He padded out quietly, shutting the door with a click that seemed to be the period of their ongoing sentence.

The four of them did not seem to know what to do. There was information to process, anticipation, horror, disgust. Eventually, Jimin slipped back into bed, sliding under the covers and turning to face the wall without another word. Namjoon and Jin followed suit, until it was just Taehyung sitting awake on the bed, feeling utterly hollowed. 

It was easier, in some ways, the time when he went solo, having to care for nothing, no one, but himself. It spared him moments like this, when his insides felt like they had been emptied out and replaced with cement that, as it dried, pulled at every inch of his skin until there was no reprise from the pain except that exhaustion that slowly lulled him into a nonconsensual sleep.

~ ~ ~

The night came sooner than Taehyung would have wanted. Once again, he was shaken awake, opening his eyes to see Jin standing over him, pity written across his face. Taehyung’s gaze was stony, pushing himself up from the bed and past Jin to where Jimin was leaning against the window, staring out.

“Tell me you changed your mind.” Taehyung spun him around, staring down into Jimin’s face desperately. 

“No.” The man’s eyes were cold, vacant, as if he had already resigned himself to his fate. He probably had.

“We’ll find a better way.” The words were a harsh whisper, a plead. “I’m willing to wait until we can figure something out.”

“Well I’m not.” Jimin shrugged, and the indifference of the motion gutted Taehyung. “What happened to Namjoon was a warning.” So Jimin had realized it wasn’t just a scare tactic as well. “The next time we may not be so lucky. What if its Jin next time, and Jaebum goes through with it? What if its Hoseok? What if it’s you?”

“You don’t care,” Taehyung softly accused. “None of you fucking care.”

“That’s not fair.” Namjoon snapped defensively from his seat on the bed. “You know damn well we wouldn’t be doing this if we had another way.”

“But you’re doing it anyways,” Taehyung countered. “It’s sick, and you know it. But it doesn’t matter, right? As long as you get Jin out. Because fuck all of us, right? Do the others even know? Did you bother telling them what the cost of our freedom is going to be?”

“They know.” It was Jimin who answered him, his voice thick. “Jackson told them after he left us last night. Jungkook is against it just as much as you are, if not more.” Taehyung bristled at the comparison but didn’t interrupt. “Hoseok is too. Yoongi doesn’t like it, but he understands.”

“So its three against four, huh?”

“I guess it is.”

Taehyung inhaled deeply, letting the air blow out through his nose. He spun, marching out of the room without waiting for the others, his footsteps crunching over the debris underfoot as he made his way out of the building and through the courtyard. 

He was greeted with a similar scene to the previous night, though tonight the fire was just barely clinging onto life, a few small flamed reaching up from the smoldering embers toward what was left of a deer leg.

“Ah, Taehyung, welcome!” Once again, he was greeted with the smiling face of Jaebum, but instead of unease, the grin stoked the fire of loathing in Taehyungs chest. Still, he did nothing more than nod at the man before taking a seat. He wasn’t stupid, nor was he suicidal, and figured nothing he had to say to Jaebum would help their sapling of a plan. From across the embers Taehyung’s gaze met Jungkook, the boy’s eye’s glassy and dull. Taehyung wasn’t sure what he was supposed to feel from the sight. Pity? Empathy? Anger? It didn’t matter; he felt nothing.

They were joined soon after by the remaining trio, sitting just far enough to give Taehyung the space he needed. Jimin sat farthest away, which put him closest to Jaebum. Taehyung watched the surprise flicker in Jaebum’s eyes briefly, his smile faltering for just a moment before returning to an even brighter state than before. Taehyung wondered, for a moment, what it would be like to snatch the knife from Jaebum’s belt and carve the grin right out of his face.

“Friends,” Jaebum began once everyone had settled and received their portion of meat. “I think we must discuss the elephant in the courtyard before we eat.” Taehyung could see Jungkook’s mouth twist at his words, see the hate in his eyes. “Last night was certainly an… unfortunate circumstance. However, I am glad it happened.” He paused, nodding in agreement with himself. “You see, the reason we are successful, the reason we were able to carve ourselves a little piece of life out of this wasteland, is order.” Silence. No one dared interrupt, letting him rant and pause as he saw fit. He began wandering around the circle, hands gesticulating each point that he made. “Order, and trust. It is something I share with all of my brethren here. Isn’t that right, Jackson?” He stopped behind said man, placing his hands on his shoulders and squeezing gently.

Taehyung snapped to attention, heart thudding. A quick glance around confirmed that everyone else had heard it too. Each set of eyes was on Jaebum, staring intently. Taehyung caught Yoongi glance around quickly, and assumed the man was looking for a way out, should things turn sour. Did Jaebum know? If so, how? None of them would dare tell him, and if it had been Jackson’s turn guarding when he came to speak with them, then nobody else would have been awake. There was no way Jaebum should know, no possibility of the information slipping through the cracks, and yet…

“Yes, sir.” Jackson barked out, voice gruff.

“Yes, indeed,” Jaebum mused. “I trust my men, and in turn they trust me, and it is through this trust that we are able to prosper.” 

Taehyung felt sick. His eyes flicked around, looking for a way out, as Yoongi did. He didn’t have any supplies, but he could probably make it to the ladder, go up and over and face whatever was on the other side. He had survived a city before, he could do it again. He tensed, waiting for a cue, waiting for the slightest flinch from Yoongi or Namjoon. 

“Which is why I must apologize.” The words pulled Taehyung out of his thoughts. Apologize? “You see, you are all new here. You couldn’t have known how things are run, nor the relationships that we maintain in order for this all to work smoothly. I held you to a standard that had not yet been set up. So I apologize.” Jaebum nodded once more, looking towards Namjoon expectantly.

“You- uh, I forgive you.” Was the confused reply, which seemed to satisfy Jaebum, who then looked towards Jin.

“I forgive you,” echoed Jin.

Jaebum went through all of them, extracting forgiveness, no matter how false, from each mouth. Taehyung was last, the ‘I forgive you’ tasting like ash on his tongue.

“Didn’t that feel good?” Jaebum sat back down, grabbing his abandoned meat from the ground and holding it up in the air. “To forgiveness, and to trust!” he called out, raising his meat in the air. The circle repeated after him, each raising their meat and taking a bite to complete the toast. Taehyung chewed his slowly. Forgiveness and trust, it seemed, tasted gamey, under seasoned, and dry.


	12. The Lamb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING  
> This chapter may have content which some people may be sensitive to and/or find triggering. If you are at all at risk, please shoot me a dm or tweet @etherimaginary before reading so I can outline the contents of this chapter and you can decide if you want to read it or not (the writing itself it not explicit, but the content/implications are of adult nature)
> 
> Now that that's out of the way LOVELIES how are you I finished my report and have done nothing all day except play overwatch and eat cheesecake
> 
> Fun fact: when I was first writing this I was very much considering switching jungkook and jimin's characters. But I think the way i ended up going is better.
> 
> I realized how short this chapter was when editing it ;n; but I honestly really wanted it as its own stand alone chapter rather than just a section of a larger chapter a) because its in a new POV and b) because it just felt ~right~. I'll probably post the next chapter tomorrow!
> 
> Let me know what you think! :)
> 
> OH ALSO!!! I'm not sure how many of you read my EXO fic "If Only for Tonight" (If you haven't and you like exo and you like this fic go read it! Ksoo is a cop and Kai is a gangster and they fall in ~love~) but I think I mentioned in one of the chapters that it was the "beginning of the end". I like to think of this chapter as such. We are just barely half-way done, and yet... well I can't describe it as anything BUT the beginning of the end.

Jimin squirmed. He sat alone at the edge of the long-dead fire, its ashes cool and disturbed only by an occasional light breeze. He was the only one out in the courtyard, everyone else having called it an early night, feigning exhaustion from not having slept well after the dispute between Namjoon and Jaebum. Though, he supposed they didn’t have to act too hard; he himself felt utterly spent, the only thing keeping his eyes open being the nervous ball of energy churning in his gut.

The sound of footsteps crunching over the ground brought his eyes up from the ash, and he could see two figures walking steadily towards him across the courtyard. He recognized one as Jackson, who had a gun at his side. Jaebum was unarmed, but Jimin knew better than to think him any less dangerous. The eastern sky was just beginning to lighten, though the sun itself likely had another hour before it showed its bright solar face. Good timing.

“Thank you, Jackson.” Jaebum dismissed the man with a wave of his hand, and as Jackson nodded and began marching away, Jimin suddenly felt very frail, weak. This was a mistake. This was a bad idea, Taehyung was right, there had to be another way, a better- “Jackson said you wanted to talk with me?”

Jaebum’s voice was innocent, curious. Fake. Jimin could see right through it, he could feel the weight of his gaze, so heavy, as the man’s eyes lingered on every inch of his body. Disgusting.

“I-” His voice cracked on the word, and Jimin winced, clearing his throat before continuing. He hung his head, playing sheepish if only to avoid looking at the other. “I’m so tired.”

“What do you-”

“I’m so _alone_.” He hissed the sentence, wrapping his arms around himself, praying that Jaebum wouldn’t see through his façade. “I can’t do it anymore.”

“Can’t do what?” Jaebum spoke quietly, soothingly. There was no suspicion in the words, and it gave Jimin a small boost of confidence.

“I can’t- can’t pretend like…” he trailed off, hands waving slightly to finish the sentence that his voice could not. “The others don’t care. They are focused on surviving, but I- I can’t live like that. I can’t survive off of food and water alone. I’m going crazy.”

Jaebum slid closer, sinking onto the ground beside Jimin. Too close for comfort. His scent invaded Jimin’s nose, the common aroma of dirt and stale sweat mixed with a sort of spice. Revolting. “Baby,” Jaebum cooed, his fingers finding Jimin’s jaw and gently pulling it up, forcing the man to look him in the eyes. The pet name had Jimin’s insides recoiling, but he didn’t move, didn’t pull back no matter how much he wanted to. “I don’t understand. Tell me what you want.” 

“I… thought about what you said.” The words were scarcely a whisper, just barely a breath. “And you’re right. I don’t help my group. I can’t fight or scavenge or help or anything. I’m… useless.” Jaebum said nothing, and Jimin couldn’t tell if it was a good or bad thing. A brief moment of doubt came over Jimin. Were his words believable, his actions realistic? It was impossible to know, Jaebum too hard to read, and Jimin could do nothing but continue, hoping the other’s silence was contemplative and not calculating. “They don’t care. _No one_ cares.” 

That was it. The bait, the test. The shiny lure that would be the tell-all of Jimin’s success, or lack thereof. And for a moment more, Jaebum stayed quiet, and in the silence Jimin could only hear the wind and his own pounding heart, pulsing in the corners of his eyes like a frenzied sea, waves breaking against his eardrums.

“I care.” The words, at last, released Jimin from the fear wrapped around his chest, and he breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of ash and dead grass and Jaebum. The man stared down into Jimin’s eyes, face stoic, save for a slight crease between his eyebrows. “What do you want, baby? Tell me.”

“Love.” With the word, Jimin pushed himself up, closing the distance between their faces and connecting his lips with the other. It was vile, stirring nausea in Jimin’s gut, but he continued, moving his lips against the other, his hands moving to splay against Jaebum’s chest, pushing lightly until the other yielded, laying back on the grass. Jimin followed his movements, until he straddled the other, knees pressing into the dirt on either side of Jaebum’s waist. There, he paused, staring down at the man beneath him. 

Jaebum watched him hesitate, watched Jimin’s eyes flick over his face, body. Then he reached up, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him back down, connecting their mouths once again, fingertips ghosting over Jimin’s neck, jaw, every inch of skin that was exposed.

Tremors shuttled through Jimin’s body, waves of shame, fear. Still, he did not reach to stop Jaebum’s exploring hands, did not pull away. Now was not the time to be selfish. He was here for a reason, and he allowed himself but one more moment before bringing his own hands up to cup Jaebum’s jaw, card through his hair. He slid them down Jaebum’s neck, following the dip of his collar bone, pausing at the edge of his jacket. Jimin gave it an experimental tug, feeling Jaebum resist for a moment, slowing the movement of his lips. 

Breaking their kiss, Jimin gave another pull on the jacket, quickly pressing his lips against the newly exposed skin of Jaebum’s shoulder. Feeling no more resistance from the other, he repeated his action, peeling the jacket slowly down Jaebum’s arm, kissing and nibbling each inch of skin that was revealed underneath. Once he was finished one arm, he moved to do the other, aware of Jaebum’s eyes, held steady on his face as he worked.

Jimin paused once more as he finished, Jaebum’s torso now covered in only a tank top, which had ridden slightly up, revealing a few centimeters of flesh beneath. Jimin swallowed, ignoring the tightness in his throat, and drew his fingers across the skin, pushing up the material slightly further. 

“Wait.” Jaebum grabbed Jimin’s hands, pulling them away, and Jimin froze, certain that he had done something wrong, that he had given himself away. But Jaebum only sat up, one arm snaking around Jimin’s waist and pulling him close until their chests were pushed together. “Not here.” Jimin felt Jaebum’s lips at his ear as he whispered the words, an unwelcome shiver snaking down his spine in response. But Jimin only nodded, pushing himself to his feet and wrapping his arms around Jaebum when the other rose as well. He could see the jacket, discarded on the ground, out of the corner of his eye, and prayed that the clothing was forgotten by the other.

His hopes seemed true, and Jaebum began pulling Jimin across the yard, in the direction of a building that he had never been before.

The lobby was a similar state to those that he had seen, unswept debris crunching underfoot and Jaebum lead them down a hallway, stopping only to push open a door, shutting and locking it behind them.

Once inside, Jaebum pulled Jimin close, sucking what would surely be a bruise into his jaw, hand coming up to tug slightly at his hair. Jimin felt him step forwards, pushing him backwards until his legs connected with the edge of a bed. He felt the hand on his chest shove him backwards, and he fell back onto the bed, bouncing a few times. Jimin could hear his breathing: ragged, uneven pants that he hoped were taken as arousal rather than fear, and he chewed on the inside of his cheek, wincing when he tasted blood. 

Jaebum regarded him on the bed for a second, gaze predatory, before he reached forward, pulling Jimin’s shoes off and tossing them aside, doing the same with his own boots shortly after. Bracing himself with a knee on the bed, Jaebum leaned forward, hands grasping the hem of Jimin’s shirt and tugging it upward. 

Jimin let him tug the shirt over his head, and could not help but feel dirty, humiliated, as he watched Jaebum’s eyes inch over his skin, his hands running down Jimin’s torso, fingers hooking in the belt loops of his pants and tugging those down with the underwear that lay beneath.

Shame burned in Jimin’s cheeks as he felt the cool air swirl around his exposed skin, tears pricking in his eyes as he stared up at the ceiling, unable to meet the others gaze. He could feel Jaebum’s hands on him, gliding down his chest, stopping at his thighs momentarily before they left him entirely. There was a shuffle of fabric, and Jimin glanced down quickly to see Jaebum tugging off his tank top, leaving him in only his pants. The reality of the situation hit Jimin like a train, and he could do nothing to help his hyperventilating, bottom lip trembling as he braced himself for Jaebum’s touch one more. 

But no touch came, and after a moment of composing himself Jimin dropped his eyes from the ceiling, meeting Jaebum’s gaze as he stood between Jimin’s legs, just watching.

“I was married, once.” The confession was unexpected. Jimin’s brows pinched together, unsure of how to respond, but Jaebum continued before he even had a chance to form words. “He was… like you. So soft. So innocent. So _naïve_.” Teeth glinted in the darkness as Jaebum grinned, a wicked curl etched out of stone. “He’s dead now, but I’m sure you already knew that, as I’m sure you know how it happened. Jackson isn’t one to leave out detail.”

The name calcified Jimin’s heart, his stomach lurching. “How-” He pushed himself up onto his elbows but found himself slammed back down into the mattress, a heavy, hot weight pressing down on him as Jaebum leaned over him, grabbing Jimin’s wrists and pressing them into the bed.

“Do you think I’m a fucking idiot,” Jaebum growled in his ear, voice deep, animalistic. Jimin could say nothing, laying frozen underneath his body, eyes wide in shock. “I keep close tabs on my men. Everything they do, say, _think_ , I know it all. I knew Jackson wanted to leave, and the moment I saw you and your little friends, I knew he’d would use you as a way out.” A tear, the first of many, slipped out of Jimin’s eye, rolling down his face and getting sucked up by the sheets. “Whose idea was it to use you as a distraction, a sacrifice? Hm?”

“M-mine.” Jimin’s voice broke on the syllable. Another tear joined the first in the bed.

“Clever boy.”

“Please.” The word came out wobbled, cracked, but Jimin continued speaking, begging. “Please, just let them go. Don’t hurt them, please, please. You- you have me, just let them go.”

“Shh, shh.” Jaebum leaned back, just enough that he was staring down into Jimin’s face. One of his hands released the others wrist and cupped his face, thumb wiping the wetness from his cheeks. “I’ve already decided what to do with them.”

“No.” It came out as a sob, his chest heaving as his head shook from side to side, rough, irregular gasps wracking his body. “No, please, _please_.”

“Let me finish,” Jaebum ordered, holding tighter onto Jimin’s jaw to stop his moving. He waited until Jimin stopped writhing, his body simply shaking violently, before continuing. “I am not going to stop them from leaving.” Jimin supposed Jaebum was looking for some sign of surprise from him, but although the confession sent relief flooding through him, his body felt disconnected from his mind, and he just stared up blankly, blinking tears from his eyes. The cruel grin returned to Jaebum’s face at Jimin’s silence, an evil sickness gleaming in his eyes. “No, the city has horrors much worse than I can supply. There are far more nomads than they will be able to handle.”

“They’ll be okay.” Jimin wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince with the words, Jaebum or himself.

“Will they?” The question was said with an air of false wonder, a sick musing born from self-confidence and trust in Jaebum’s own ideas. “Because if you’re here supposedly distracting me, then I’m guessing they plan on leaving soon. Which means they’ll be out in the open during the day. In the light. I wonder how that will go for them.”

“They can handle it.”

“You don’t believe that.”

“I- I do. I know them.”

“Do you? Because the way I see it, they seem perfectly happy abandoning you here so they can sneak out. You’re a sacrificial lamb, baby boy.” He paused to let Jimin reply, but the man had no words left to say, no energy left to fight. Jaebum pushed himself up from the bed, bringing his other knee up until they pressed into the mattress on either side of Jimin’s hips. He paused to gaze down at Jimin’s body, which broke out in goosebumps at the sudden loss of warmth, and sighed contentedly. His hands drew down Jimin’s rib cage, squeezing his waist, fluttering over his collarbones and neck.

Jimin’s eyes burned with tears. His throat ached, and his body felt vile, used, humiliated. His dead stare bore up into the ceiling, drained of emotion, and he did not move when he felt Jaebum slip off his own pants, did not move when the man leaned back down, lips trailing fire up his neck, jaw, pausing once more at his ear.

“Your friends will be dead by nightfall,” he murmured, the sense of finality in his voice breaking what little remaining resolve Jimin had managed to hold onto. “And you? You’re staying right here with me.”


	13. The closest thing to a Cafe Au that one can get during a zombie apocalypse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, as promised, I am posting the next chapter today. Honestly the title of this chapter was really just like a place holder until I could think of a better one, but after a while I just.. really started to love it lol. So I left it as is.  
> I don't have class for the next few days, so don't be surprised if I post like... every day or every other day. I have nothing else to occupy my time -n-

“The walk to Daejeon should take a day and a half.” Namjoon’s voice was quiet as he addressed the group, six pairs of eyes trained on him. They were kneeled on top of the semi-truck, the rest of the compound silent in sleep. They had not seen or heard any of the other guards or Jaebum, and the grim meaning of the silence was not lost to any of them. Jimin had done his job. 

The sky was lightening more quickly than Namjoon would have liked, despite Jackson retrieving the weapons and gathering them all as quickly as he could, and he was ansty, wanting to get as far away from both the nest and the more heavily populated inner city as possible. “If what Jaebum said was true, we are going to have to deal with a lot of Units. Don’t fight, just run. If we get separated, then our meeting spot is the science center in Daejeon.” 

“By the river?”

Namjoon nodded at Jungkook’s question. “Exactly. We’ll meet there and wait until the next night before moving on. That means that if you aren’t there three sunsets from now, you will be assumed dead and we will move on without you. Clear?”

A chorus of agreements and nods ended the conversation. Namjoon took one more breath, looking over the group before turning and descending down the ladder onto the outside. One by one, the rest of them followed, landing as quietly as possible onto the gravel below. It was unusual to be moving around during the light of day, and Taehyung couldn’t shake the fear from the back of his mind. 

They stalked through the edge of the city, not daring to speak for fear of disturbing the silence that had taken hold of the land. It felt nice to be reunited as a group again, however Jimin’s absence was not something Taehyung could ignore, and he had to force himself to stop thinking about it, as it was just making him more and more upset. Jungkook seemed to be feeling it as well, his occasional sniffles and red eyes not lost on Taehyung. 

Namjoon held up his hand, signaling for the group to pause. The path they had been taken was interrupted with a park, silent and still, its swings just barely shifting in the presence of wind. Taehyung glanced around. It was not ideal to walk through; the park and its adjacent field being too open of a space for comfort, but to go around either way would take time, and the sun had already breached the horizon, illuminating the sky with pale blues and peach-tinted clouds. There was no movement in the vicinity, no sounds of shuffling, no hungry moans. Namjoon glanced over his shoulder at the expectant group, his mouth twisting in a way that proved to Taehyung that the risk of the situation was not something that had gone unnoticed.

Still, the man turned and began to march onward, his footsteps muffled as he stalked over the wood chips, past abandoned slides and monkey bars. Taehyung felt hands grab lightly onto his jacket, and for a moment he thought it was Jimin, a quick sideways glance proved it to be Jungkook. Taehyung considered yanking his arm away, but he could feel Jungkook’s hands shaking, see his eyes darting around with every step. And Taehyung supposed it would have been Jimin that he clung to, given that Yoongi and Hoseok were maintaining a tight grasp on one another, and he was slightly amused at the audacity, or perhaps it was desperation, of the boy, and allowed him to cling on.

They had almost reached the other edge of the clearing when Namjoon paused again, this time without warning, and knelt down. The others mimicked his actions, shuffling close.

“Unit ahead.” Namjoon’s voice was tight. “In the bushes, right side of the path.” Taehyung craned his neck, squinting ahead. At first, he saw nothing, but then movement caught his eye and he made out the silhouette of a lumbering body, aimlessly walking in the bush. “Hasn’t seen us, but it probably will soon.” Namjoon glanced up at the sky as he spoke. It was light, light enough that they could be seen, and the only other way they could go was straight into the bushes themselves and through the brief collection of trees that separated the park from the city roads. Not ideal, especially when there could have been any number of Hungries lurking in the shadows of the trees. “Stay here. I’ll take it out.” Namjoon shifted his weight, unsheathing the knife attached to his hip. Jackson had gotten them all guns, but it would be foolish to use them now. They hadn’t been detected, and the noise would surely attract more of the dead.

“Wait.” Jackson reached out, grabbing Namjoon just as he began to stand. “There’s another.” He gestured to the trees lining the other side of the path, and sure enough, in the growing light they could see another, albeit smaller, Hungry, its body twitching as it clawed at the bark of a tree, leaving dark streaks anywhere it touched. 

“Shit.” Taehyung felt the hold on his arm tighten, but he ignored it. “Joon, we should just make a run for it.”

“Movement will attract them.”

“Taehyung’s right,” Jin countered, “We can’t stay here. We have to move; it’s almost-”

A groan from behind them snapped them all to attention. Taehyung spun around to stare into the face of death, a face composed of rotting flesh and exposed bone. The Hungry gnashed its teeth, hands sinking into the woodchips to pull it closer, and Taehyung realized that it didn’t have legs, had which allowed it to sneak up on them so easily. Taehyung pulled out his knife, ready to quiet it, but it groaned again, louder, desperate.

“Shit, they see us.” Taehyung glanced over his shoulder, following Namjoon’s gaze to where the Hungries in the forest were stumbling towards them. They added to the cries of the first, and soon the three voices turned into five and five into ten, and ten into an uncountable amount until the clearing was one mass of indistinguishable groans and rustled and footsteps.

“Go!” Namjoon barked, jumping to his feet and grabbing Jin, dragging him in the direction of the tree line. The group did not need to be told twice, pushing themselves from the ground and chasing after Namjoon.

By the time Taehyung made it to the trees, his ears were filled with the loud, incessant growls of innumerable hungries. He dared a glance behind him, his stomach dropping when he saw the sheer number of them. Jaebum was right. Fuck, he was right. There were too many. Too late now.

A bang echoed through the forest, and Taehyung turned just in time to see the body of a Hungry fall, releasing its hold on Yoongi. Hungries poured in from every direction, pouncing and grabbing and gnashing their teeth. The shadows of the forest made it hard to distinguish dead from living, and at the feeling of someone grabbing his arm Taehyung hesitated, thinking it was Jungkook again, only to be shoved to the ground by not Jungkook but a Hungry, teeth inches from his face. He could just barely hold it off, hands on its shoulders, but it was heavy and determined, and on the ground Taehyung was vulnerable, immobile. 

There was a flash of metal above him and suddenly the Hungry went still, the handle of a knife protruding from the side of its head. Its body was hauled off of him by Hoseok and Namjoon, who grabbed his arms and hauled him to his feet. Namjoon turned to drive his own knife into the temple of another Hungry that had gotten too close, pulling it out with a sickening wet sound. 

“Where’s Jin?” Namjoon’s voice was rushed, desperate. 

Taehyung shook his head. “I thought he was with you.”

“There!” Hoseok cried out pointing. Yoongi and Jin were finishing off a trio of Hungries, looking around frantically as Yoongi finished beating in the skull of the last one with the snout of his gun. Shit, how’d they get so far away? Taehyung could see Yoongi’s mouth move, lips forming around Hoseok’s name before spotting them. His gaze flicked from Hoseok to Namjoon, locking eyes with the man just as Namjoon tore his stare from Jin. The two of them paused for a moment, nodding at each other. A silent pact, Taehyung knew. I’ll protect yours, you protect mine. 

Then the moment was over, and Yoongi turned, grabbing Jin and dragging him away in the direction of the city. 

“This way!” Jackson’s voice sounded out from in front of them as he waved his arms, beckoning them. They took off in his direction, dirt and moss flying up as their feet pounded the earth.

The dead were closing in; Taehyung could feel their presence, hear them crunch over leaves and twigs behind him. Hungries poured onto them from behind trees, out of bushes, bones and flesh grasping for his coat. One stumbled out in front of him, too fast to doge, and Taehyung slammed into it, sending them both sprawling onto the ground. He was quick to react, kicking it away and not even bothering trying to kill it before hauling himself back onto his feet, but in that short time he was down Namjoon and Hoseok had distanced themselves from him, Hungries stumbling after them, blocking Taehyung’s path. Fuck.

Taehyung spun, looking for a way out. Couldn’t go back; Hungries were tumbling over each other as they lumbered through the forest, uncountable sets of eyes locked on him. Couldn’t go forward, unless he wanted the attention of the dozen of Hungries that were still chasing after Namjoon and Hoseok. His eyes found a path through the trees that seemed less occupied than the surrounding area, and he sprinted into it blindly, having no other option.

Chest aching, Taehyung crashed through trees and underbrush, feeling dead plants and twigs whip at his face, his hands. His backpack was heavy, weighing him down, but he knew it was foolish to abandon it, even if every step made it tug harshly down on his shoulders. 

He stumbled out the other side of the forest, nearly tripping on the suddenly hard and even surface of the sidewalk. It was quieter here, and he assumed most of the Hungries would have been too focused on the others to notice him slip away. The streets ahead were silent, but he could hear rustling behind him, footsteps, and he began running again, ignoring the protest of his legs and lungs. He did not know the city, did not know its secret paths, its safehouses. All he could do was run, not looking back, until he was too exhausted to continue, stumbling down a side street he chose at random, hands shaking as he pulled open the door to a café, the inside dark and quiet. Breathing deeply, he slipped the backpack from his shoulders, lurching towards the back of the room, where shadows would hide him from any outside eyes.

There was a whoosh as the door was opened behind him, and he dropped his bag, spinning as he unholstered his gun and held it up to the intruder. A Hungry? One of Jaebum’s men? 

“Jungkook?”

The boy’s own chest was heaving, and he stumbled forward, leaning against a wall as he breathed deeply. Once he had somewhat caught his breath, Jungkook discarded his backpack onto the floor before sinking into a chair, swallowing a few times. “Yeah.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Jungkook sent him an odd expression, as if it was a ridiculous question, and Taehyung assumed it was, but that didn’t quench his irritation. “I got separated in the forest.” Heavy pants punctuated his sentences. “Lost track of the others.” Pant. “Saw you.” 

“So you decided to follow me?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

A shrug. “Because you’re a frie- an ally. Because I had no other way out. Because you know what you’re doing, and I don’t. Take your pick.”

“You’re right.” Taehyung agreed, Jungkook frowning in confusion at the words. “I _do_ know what I’m doing,” he clarified, “I also knew from the moment I laid eyes on you that you would be useless. And guess what? I was right.” Taehyung could hear the anger in his words, but he couldn’t stop it. He was exhausted, lost in a city he didn’t know, separated from the only people who had made him feel safe. He wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and sleep the rest of the day away, maybe have a few cathartic cries. “You didn’t help us. You follow us around like a fucking street dog, leeching off of us and acting all proud when you found a single can of food.” He watched as the shock in Jungkook’s eyes faded into hurt, the boy swallowing but remaining silent as Taehyung tore into him. “So what in the seventh realm of hell possessed you to think that I wanted you to follow me? That I wanted this responsibility? That I would even let you stay?”

For a moment, Jungkook didn’t answer. He just blinked, swallowed, alternated between glancing up at Taehyung and looking at the ground. “I didn’t know,” he admitted at last, voice small, wobbly. “I didn’t but I was scared and confused and lost and I just saw you.” Jungkook paused to sniffle and shit, was he crying? Taehyung snorted, refusing to feel bad for the boy even though part of him wanted to. “And you’ve just always been there, confidently, knowing the way or at least pretending you do. You're like Namjoon, you know? I feel… safe around you, even if-” He paused. “Even if you hate me. Even if I do nothing more than hinder you, am nothing more than a burden. Even if you think I’m worthless."

Taehyung paused. He supposed Jungkook’s admission should have made him feel better, but all it did was stoke the anger in his chest, the wildfire the sizzled against his skin and turned his breath to flame. Jungkook was soft. Even after all that had happened. He was gentle and naïve and _soft_ , and it was unfair, unfair that Jungkook still got to keep the luxury of innocence when Taehyung had had it stripped from him so long ago, long before the appearance of the hungries. 

“You’re just agreeing with me.” Taehyung spat the words through clenched teeth. He stalked towards Jungkook, who jumped up from his chair and stepped back, eyes wide and hands held up between them. “Fight back.” He reached past Jungkook’s hands, shoving the boy against the wall roughly. Jungkook grunted at the force but kept his hands raised between them, a meager blockade. He turned away slightly, shoulders hunched as he curled in on himself, made himself smaller. The sight only spurred Taehyung on more. “Fight back!” He raised his hand, and it was then that Jungkook moved, flinching hard, his hands coming up to shield his head in instinct. Taehyung froze, watched. He could see Jungkook’s shoulders stutter with quick, shaky breaths, see his jaw clench and unclench, see the tear tracks glint on his face. Everything about Jungkook screamed surrender: his posture, his actions, the cowering that seemed to come naturally, instinctively to the boy. But such a thing was never natural, and any instinct was the product of necessity, of learning how to protect yourself, make yourself small, cower until it was over. Accept it, bear with it; fighting back would only make it worse.

It all seemed too familiar to Taehyung, a deja-vu that he was watching from a different point of view, and it was as if he were watching himself, as if it was his chest that stuttering, his tears that dripped onto the floor. He shuddered, shaking away the unwelcome memories, and slowly lowered his hand, turning way from Jungkook and breathing deep. He walked away without another word, grabbing his bag from the floor and pushing past the swinging door that separated the front of house from the backroom.

It was darker back there, thankfully, and after a quick check to make sure it was truly empty, Taehyung sunk down into a corner, rubbing his eyes deeply. He was exhausted. Physically, mentally, emotionally. The floor, however, was cold and hard, and maybe Taehyung had been spoiled by sleeping in a bed the past few nights, but try as he might he simply could not fall asleep.

A mere hour had passed before he gave up, staggering to his feet. He knew he needed to sleep, the thought of the trek to Daejeon exhausting to even consider, and he had calmed down enough to quiet the anger in his mind, think rationally. And maybe, just maybe, sleep was worth his pride.

“Still awake?” Taehyung peaked out from behind the door. Jungkook had chosen to sleep behind the counter, out of sight of the windows, but it was still bright out here, the storefront illuminated with the morning sun’s rays, glinting off of metal chairs and espresso machines.

“Yeah.” He paused. “It’s too bright.”

“And cold.”

“Yeah.”

“You can... come sleep back here if you want. It’s darker.” Jungkook sat up immediately at the offer, at which Taehyung made a face. “Only because I don’t want to have to wait for your slow ass tonight because you couldn’t fall asleep.”

There was no missing the slight smirk on Jungkook’s face as he grabbed his bag and followed Taehyung into the backroom. “You couldn’t sleep either.”

“Don’t push it.” Taehyung lead him past the kitchen, where dirty dishes sat in a dry sink and crumbs littered the floor, into the small employee’s room. Taehyung had laid the few sweaters out on the floor, which did little to help with comfort or warmth, but at least they felt soft. It was a small room, more of a glorified closet, but Jungkook jammed himself into one corner anyways, pressed up against the wall to avoid brushing arms with Taehyung. They laid in silence for a few minutes, Taehyung staring up into darkness, hearing Jungkook’s breaths. He could tell the other still wasn’t asleep; he moved too much, breathed too lightly. “I’m cold.”

“Me too.”

Silence. Taehyung had hoped Jungkook would have been the one to take the blow, to make the offer, but it appeared the boy was doing everything in his power not to upset him, and Taehyung knew that the offer would never be spoken into existence unless it was his voice that said it. Goodbye, precious ego.

“We should, um, huddle. For warmth.”

“Oh.” Jungkook seemed surprised at the suggestion. “Yeah, good idea.”

“Just so we can sleep.”

“Yeah, just for sleep.” He paused for a moment, then awkwardly shuffled over, pressing into Taehyung’s side. “For sleep.” He confirmed.

“For sleep.” Taehyung agreed. It _was_ warmer like this, but also added a sense of comfort. He could hear Jungkook’s breaths, and the boy was leaning onto him slightly, his head resting on Taehyung’s shoulder. There was a sense of domesticity to it, a vulnerability, as if Taehyung was being allowed to taste the innocence Jungkook lived in, to let a few drops fall on his tongue. It was nice, even if it was just to be able to sleep. Yup, just for sleeping. Nothing more.

Taehyung figured his pride surely wouldn’t recover from this. Somehow, though, he didn’t seem to mind.


	14. Kaleidoscope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE ARE ALMOST 3/4 OF THE WAY DONE MY LOVES  
> And yet, so much still has to happen...
> 
> Oh also can you please give me some ideas of fics that you would like me to write? I'm running slightly dry on ideas at the moment (school is one bitch of a demotivator) and I also love new thoughts. Also I love the feeling of making people happy.  
> Both "Twenty" (Jackjae oneshot smut) and "The Eve" (Baekyeol chaptered demon au) were written for my friends!  
> Right now I'm probably not looking to write another long one like this, but if you have a dying urge then still send it, who knows maybe itll be my next long project. (and..... yes you can send in smut ideas I'm not very good at writing it but I might still try my darnest best)

Namjoon was shaken awake, the hand on his shoulder gentle but frantic. He blinked, squinting up at who had woken him. “Hoseok?” His voice was slurred with the remnants of sleep, and he groaned as he pushed himself into a sitting position. “Is it my watch?”

They weren’t sure who was still alive. The chaos in the forest had split everyone up, and though he, Hoseok, and Jackson were able to find a safe place to spend the rest of the day, there was no certainty that anyone else had managed to do the same. He could only pray that Jin was safe.

“No, but there’s some weird sounds coming from outside.”

“What kind of sounds?” He blinked towards the door of the room. They had found a squat office building and taken up residence in its upper floor, two sleeping in one of the board rooms while the third kept watch. It was Jackson’s turn currently; Hoseok had gone first, and Namjoon was scheduled to take the last watch, which would end at sunset. The sun was already deep into its arch across the sky, splattering shadows of chairs against the far wall, so Namjoon assumed he would have been woken up soon anyways to take over for Jackson. 

“Thuds and banging sounds.”

“Thuds and bangs?” Namjoon echoed, frowning. He pushed himself to his feet, lurching towards the door, knife in hand. You could never be too safe. “Just stay here.”

There was a soft click as he unlocked the door, pushing it open slowly. Jackson was still at his post, sitting on the stairs, and did not seem to hear Namjoon approach. He was leaned against the railing, gun sitting by his side. Had he fallen asleep? “Dude.” Namjoon nudged him with his knee, received a grumble in response. Jackson reached behind him, feeling Namjoon’s leg. “Did you seriously fall asleep? What’s the point of being on guard duty if-”

Namjoon’s leg was suddenly pulled out from under him, his back connecting with the ground and sending him gasping for air. Jackson spun to face him, staring at him with empty eyes, foaming lips curled back to reveal teeth that chomped down inched from his leg.

“Shit!” Jackson was on him in a second, lunging forward desperately, clawing closer the exposed skin of Namjoon’s neck. Namjoon swung his fist, connecting with Jackson’s jaw and hearing as crack as the bone fractured. Blood spilled from his mouth onto Namjoon’s clothes, but the blow did nothing to slow the dead man down, who didn’t even seem to have noticed the attack. Where was his knife?

Using his hands to hold Jackson away from him, Namjoon scanned the ground, looking for where he had dropped his weapon. The glint of metal caught his eye at the edge of the staircase, and he twisted, pushing Jackson far enough away to deliver a kick to his ribcage. The man flew backwards, his skull connecting with the wall loudly. Namjoon rolled onto his knees, diving for the knife just as he felt a heavy weight connect with his body, sending them both rolling down the stairs.

The few seconds of falling seemed to move in slow motion. Namjoon felt each stair connect with his body with bruising force, felt Jackson’s nails claw at his face, felt teeth sink his forearm, just below his elbow, tearing through his thin shirt and plunging into the flesh below.

Then the moment was over, and he slammed into the wall of the landing. Spitting out blood, Namjoon rolled, dodging Jackson’s tackle and grabbing the knife from where it had landed on the floor. He felt the man jump onto him once more, but this time he was armed with more than just his fist, and he used what little mobility the proximity of the other allowed to swing the blade in a tight arch, driving the metal deep into Jackson’s skull.

The man stilled immediately, turning into dead weight on Namjoon’s chest. Groaning, he shoved the now properly dead Jackson off of him, gasping for air and wincing at the stab of pain that accompanied his every movement.

“Namjoon!” Hoseok was looking down at him from the top of the stairs with wide eyes, his gaze flicking between the two. “What…?”

“He was infected.” Namjoon spat blood from his mouth once more, tasting its copper tang on his tongue. “Must have gotten bit in the forest and didn’t tell us. Idiot.” He remembered how desperate Jackson was to get out of the nest, how badly he wanted his freedom. And it was unfortunate, the price he had to pay for a taste of the outside, but it was not worth lying for, not worth putting them at risk just so he could eke out a few more hours of life. Bastard.

“Holy shit.” Hoseok shook his head, as if he, too were imagining what could have happened. What he didn’t know, however, is the horrors of his imagination were realized, and each throb of Namjoon’s arm burrowed the message deeper into his brain. “Are you okay though? He didn’t get you?”

“No, I’m fine.” It was a lie. A hypocritical, selfish, stupid lie. Because Namjoon knew he was not fine. And he could feel the ache, the pulse, driving the infection deeper into his body, and each throb was a reminder, an echo of the lie. No, he was not okay, he was not fine. He was not fine at all.

~ ~ ~

Taehyung jerked awake, eyes wide. His heart was pounding, remnants of his nightmares flashing across his vision. The room was dark, too dark to see by, but he could feel Jungkook beside him, arm splayed across his chest and leg intertwined with Taehyung’s own.

“Jungkook.” Taehyung hissed, shaking him awake frantically. “Jungkook, get up. What time is it?”

Groaning, the boy shifted, fumbling for his watch and pressing the little button on the side that illuminated its face. “It’s, uh,” He squinted down at the little machine. “Oh, shit!”

“What, what?” Taehyung felt him spring up, flinching at the sudden loss of warmth.

“It’s like four in the fucking morning.”

“No!” The word came out as a screech, Taehyung’s voice cracking slightly.

“Shit, shit, we gotta go.” Jungkook rolled away from him, grabbing his backpack and stumbling out into the kitchen. “Tae? What are you doing. Let’s go.”

“We’re not gonna make it.” His voice was empty, defeated. “We aren’t gonna- how long did we sleep for?”

“Does it matter?”

“We were supposed to leave at sunset.”

“We can still make it.”

“We’re almost a day behind.”

Taehyung could hear footsteps approaching, then he was grabbed, Jungkook’s fingers pressing into his shoulders and shaking him lightly. “And we’re gonna be even more behind if we don’t go now.”

“Doesn’t matter.” He shook his head, voice rising slightly. “It doesn’t matter! Even if we left now, we’ll only have what, 2, 3 hours before sunrise? We can’t travel during the day, you saw what happened. By the time we get to Daejeon they’ll already have left.”

A brief silence encapsulated them, and Taehyung assumed Jungkook was doing the calculations for himself, confirmed with a soft “Oh, hell.”

The hands on his shoulders pulled away, and there was a thud of a backpack being dropped to the floor. Then it was quiet again, neither speaking. There was nothing to say.

“What if…” Jungkook began at last, “What if we get there faster.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’ll find a car.”

Taehyung snorted. “Yeah good luck with that. I guarantee you every car on the street has no gas. It was either left running or siphoned.”

“Well, what if we don’t get the car from the street?” There was a certain caution in Jungkook’s voice, as if he too knew the improbability of his words but were saying them anyway. It wouldn’t be surprising. “I’m sure there are car dealerships around.”

“If they haven’t already been broken into and stolen, then the keys will be locked up somewhere.”

“There has to be one somewhere. What about a mechanic?”

There was a pause as Taehyung considered it. He was not foolish enough to kindle any hope, but he supposed that a foolish plan was better than none at all. “If it’s at the mechanic, it means it’s broken.”

“Not necessarily.”

“To say that it’s a long shot is an understatement.”

“But you’re not saying no.”

“I don’t even know where there are any mechanics in this city.”

“I do.”

“How?” Taehyung frowned, then realized that Jungkook wouldn’t be able to see it.

“My cousins used to live here.” Jungkook spoke in a matter-of-fact way, a sense of confidence in the words, and it eased Taehyung’s mind, if only by a little. “I’d stay with them when things weren’t… good at home.” The words hung between them, their implication not lost to Taehyung. “They’d always take their cars and bikes to the dealers if they saw the check engine light go on for even a second. It was stupid, really, how much they babied those things. Spoiled rich kid stuff, I guess.”

A huff was Taehyung’s reply. It was a risk. If they wasted the remaining hours of the night and came up with nothing, they would be even more behind than before. But there really was no other option, no better alternative. They were screwed either way. “Fuck it,” he sighed eventually, “Lead the way.”

~ ~ ~

“I’m sure Namjoon is going to watch out for Hoseok. You don’t have to keep worrying.”

Yoongi’s blinked at the voice, not looking up from the ground. He had been walking in silence for the past half hour, and had settled into a sort of trance, his mind empty, still, as he focused only on what was in front of him. One foot in front of the other. Left, right, left right. Just keep moving forward. Every step closer to Daejeon. Every step closer to Hoseok. “I’m not worried.”

“You’re not a good liar.” Jin reached out, clasping his hand on the other’s shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Seriously. Namjoon kept me alive this long, he’ll watch out for him.”

Pushing the hand away, Yoongi sped up his pace, not liking the feeling of Jin’s eyes on his face, reading him, unpeeling him. He was exhausted as it was, having slept like shit the day before, his mind whirring with nightmares of monsters swallowing up what little he had left in this world, and he wasn’t exactly in the mood for a therapy session. “Things happen,” was all he said, and Jin thankfully got the hint, pushing the conversation no further. 

There were no words that could ease the fear that sunk its claws into his every waking thought, no remedy for the constant throb, the tension pulling the sides of his skull inward. He didn’t want to believe that the world was sadistic enough to take Hoseok from him, didn’t want to think it so merciless as to stomp out the little flame that kept him warm on even the coldest nights. But he had seen first-hand the cruelty that this new reality had offered, lived it. How much had he already given to protect him and his own? How much more had he to give?

He glanced over his shoulder. Jin’s head was tilted back as he gazed up at the stars, proud and untouched, far above the terrain that they resided over. The man was quiet, as he usually was, and Yoongi wondered what thoughts ran through his mind. Numbers? Facts? Hypotheses? Not emotion, Yoongi knew, not love. It was too unpredictable, too volatile, too human.

Yoongi tore his gaze from the man, eyes settling back onto the ground in front of him. 

Left, right, left right. 

_I’m coming, Hobi. I’m coming._

~ ~ ~

Taehyung turned the little plastic piece over and over in his hand. He could hear Jungkook behind him, each move the boy made accentuated with the sound of plastic and metal rolling around. They stood in a parking lot, faced with a row of silent, cold cars. Taehyung swallowed, his thumb feeling around for a dip in the device, a button. He closed his eyes, praying, and pressed down on it.

Nothing. 

He pressed again, trying all the buttons. Lock. Unlock. Alarm. Trunk. 

Nothing.

Sighing, he tossed it away. “Next.” 

Jungkook stepped towards him, placing another keychain into his hand. “There aren’t many left,” he admitted, squinting into the drawer of the cabinet that been used as a makeshift bowl, into which they had piled every key they could find hidden away in the office of the mechanic.

A grunt of acknowledgement was the reply. It was frustrating at best, and Taehyung felt like they were walking in circles, driven by desperation and naïve hope, each dead car battery making a mockery of them, laughing at their foolishness. His thumb found the button on the new fob. Nothing. “Next.”

“Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe we should jus-”

“I said next, Jungkook.” Taehyung’s teeth were clenched as he spoke, hand hovering in the open air, palm up, ready for the next piece of cold plastic to be dropped into it. There was a sigh behind him, but he soon felt another drop into his hand. Once more, he twirled it in his hands, delaying the inevitable silence by a few seconds. 

_Beep._

Taehyung froze. He spun, eyes on Jungkook’s face, looking for confirmation that he hadn’t just imagined the noise. The boy’s mouth was ajar slightly, surprise etched into his features. “That came from inside.”

Abandoning the drawer of remaining keys, Jungkook dashed towards the garage of the shop, Taehyung close behind, clutching the key in his hand tightly. It was darker inside, the roof and walls blocking what little light reached down from the moon and stars. There was a scuffle as Jungkook’s backpack slipped from his shoulders, unclipping the small flashlight from the front and clicking it on. It did not offer much light, but metal glinted around the shop, tools and spare parts winking at them in the darkness.

There was but a single car in the garage, hood popped and wires feeling into its bowels. Leaning over the exposed entrails, Jungkook squinted down, hand following the wires. “I think these are connected to the battery.” He reached forward, squeezing the clamp and pulling away one wire, then the next, the current long that flowed through them long dead. “Maybe it was left charging by accident after the Rots attacked.”

“Fucking hell.” Taehyung joined him at the edge of the car, searching for any damage that would hint at why the vehicle was in for repair. “Do you think it’ll start?”

“One way to find out.” Jungkook shrugged, holding out his hand expectantly.

“What?”

“Give me the key.”

“Funny.” Reaching up to unlock the hood from its raised position, Taehyung lowered it slowly back into place, pushing down until it clicked. He could hear Jungkook following him as he made his way to the door, pulling it open and sliding down onto the seat. “Do you even know how to drive?”

“I was gonna ask you the same question.” The flashlight illuminated the smirk on the boy’s face as he leaned down, inspecting the interior of the car. “Especially since this is standard.”

Taken aback slightly, Taehyung squinted down at floor, where sure enough, a smaller third pedal was hung beside the familiar accelerator and brake. He hesitated, glaring down at the car as if it had conspired against him, before pushing himself back onto the floor of the garage, ignoring Jungkook’s raised eyebrow. The boy said nothing, thankfully, not asking why Taehyung had never learned nor teasing him for the lack of skill. He simply grabbed the keys out of the others hand and took his place in the driver’s seat, pulling the door shut behind him.

There was a slight ‘walk-of-shame’ aspect to Taehyungs route around the front of the car to the passenger seat, but he tried to ignore it, slipping in silently. Jungkook pushed the key into the ignition but did not yet turn it, instead looking towards Taehyung for confirmation.

“Make sure the lights won’t turn on.”

“I did.”

“If this doesn’t work after a few tries, we’re getting out and booking it. I don’t know how many Hungries are around here, but any that are will be attracted by the engine noise.

“Okay.”

Silence.

“Are you gonna do it or are we going to sit here all night.”

“What if it doesn’t work?” Any prior confidence had vanished from Jungkook’s voice, and Taehyung could see his hands gripping the wheel tightly. He opened his mouth to snap at the boy but found he had no criticism in him, just a fear that echoed the other’s own.

“If it doesn’t work,” he sighed, “then we’ll leave for Daejeon tomorrow.”

“They’ll be gone by the time we get there.”

“Then we’ll keep walking north up to Incheon and get to that damn lab by ourselves.”

“What if they don’t let us in?”

“Can you just start the fucking car?”

“Seriously, what if they turn us away?”

Taehyung growled in frustration, fingers coming up to rub at his temple. He hated this procrastination, hated the dely. All he wanted to know is whether they were going to see the group again. “It’s not like I haven’t survived on my own before. If they turn us away then I’ll just wait out however long the cure takes to be reproduced and spread.”

“What about me?”

“Huh?”

“I can’t survive on my own.”

“Who say’s you’ll be on your own?” Taehyung frowned at Jungkook, who didn’t answer his question, didn’t even look at him, just wrung his hands over the steering wheel more, squeezed the leather against his palm. “Do you think I’d just leave you?” Still no answer. “Jesus, who do you think I am?”

“You’ve said it before.” Jungkook’s voice had a wobble to it, a breathiness that Taehyung did not expect. 

“No I- ugh.” Taehyung raked a hand through his hair, half tempted to reach over and twist the keys himself. Fuck, they did not have time for this. “I won’t, okay? There, I said it. I won’t abandon you. Now let’s _go_.”

Jungkook paused for a moment more, sniffled, before reaching down, and turning the keys. The engine let out a horrid noise, skipping a few times, before Jungkook released the pressure, letting them fall back into silence, the sound echoing off the walls a few times before it too subsided. Taking a deep breath, he twisted once more, wincing at the cacophony of the engine. It spat and gurgled, but caught, and shuddered to life with a growl.

“Holy shit.” Taehyung blinked down at the dash, which now glowed up at him, and began laughing. “I can’t believe it.” He turned to look at Jungkook, who was simply shaking his head in disbelieve, as if he thought the car would die the moment he acknowledged what happened. “Foot on the gas, Kook, I don’t want to be here when the Hungries come looking for the cause of all that noise. What’s our fuel situation like?”

“Almost empty.” It was only then that he looked up from the steering wheel, looking at Taehyung with a mixture of hope and worry.

“Well.” The man met his gaze with sparkling eyes. “I guess we’ll just have to get there quickly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SOOOOOOO EXCITED FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER EEK I had to convince myself not to double post in one day bc Im so excited I hope you all are too!!!


	15. Sig Figs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)

The sky above was a melting pot of purples and blues and oranges, stars gasping out their final breaths before fading into extinction behind the drapery that was the oncoming light. The few sparse clouds that had taken the morning shift rolled over one another, their shapes at the mercy of whatever turbulence battered the stratosphere. Taehyung watched them slip along the backdrop of sky, his eyes watering from the wind as he stuck his face unabashedly out of the car window, feeling the air tear against his skin.

They had been driving for nearly an hour, escaping the city with only handful of Hungries watching them go, stumbling after the car until they faded out of sight. The highway was empty, and with no chance of being pulled over, Jungkook had sped down the asphalt with no concern over his speed, letting the engine growl and sigh as he shifted through the gears. They had talked for the first half hour, of everything and nothing, musing about the others, imagining their surprise at seeing them waiting. But the humour was short lived and had turned to ash the moment they acknowledged that there was a chance that they would be waiting for no one. The quiet came soon after that, both finding solace in the silence, and Taehyung had stuck his head out the window, feeling the air, the shifts as the highway turned, and for a moment he could pretend that everything was good again, that the sweetness of the night air would last until morning, that the city would greet him with rush-hour traffic, each car trying to get to school, to work, to brunch.

Letting out a sputter, the car shook suddenly, engine gurgling and slowing and eventually going quiet all together. Their momentum carried them for a short while, until they rolled to a stop, crunching over the rubble that had made its way onto the road. 

“Looks like we’re walking from here,” Jungkook mused, gently patting the steering wheel. He squinted through the windshield, where the city stood proudly in the distance. “How long do you think it will take?”

“We’re only a few kilometers away. An hour, max.” Taehyung heard him hum, knew that they were thinking the same way. An hour was too long. It was already too light for comfort, and in any favourable situation Taehyung would already be settling down to sleep. The only other option, however, was to spend the day in the car, which was not exactly ideal, as they were exposed, out in the open and in view of anyone or anything that might happen to wander past. “We’ll find something.”

With one last thank you pat to the dashboard, Taehyung swung his door open, stepping out into the cool, damp air. Even without people to occupy them, the cities always had a busy, claustrophobic feel to them, and Taehyung much preferred the suburbs and countryside, where everything seemed slower, more vast. Cities were good for supplies and not much more. He heard Jungkook get out behind him and started walking, legs slightly asleep from sitting for so long. 

There was not much spoken as they made their way to the city, the discomfort at being so vulnerable mixed in with the exhaustion that had been cumulating the past few days. Eventually the stretch of road was interrupted with gas stations, small houses, a sign that read “Welc- t- Daej-”, the rest of the words covered by streaks of a dark, sunbaked substance that Taehyung didn’t ponder on for too long.

Deciding that the city proper itself would be too dangerous to traverse by day, they settled on a gas station nestled just beyond the urban cityscape, its windows smashed and shelves plundered. Taehyung’s boots ground the glass into the floor as he crept through the small building, making sure it was truly empty as Jungkook did a quick search to see if any supplies had been missed.

The backroom was locked, key nowhere to be found, and with growing light and fading energy, a quick glance at the ground behind the counter, shaded from direct light and out of line of sight of any of the windows, was all Taehyung needed before he shed his bag, sinking onto the unforgiving tile floor.

Jungkook hesitated, eyes intent on Taehyung’s face, before he slowly mirrored his actions, settling by the edge of the counter. It wasn’t cold here, and there was no darker option, no employee closet to squeeze into. There was space, and yet… “I don’t know if I’ll be able to fall asleep on this. It’s so uncomfortable.”

“You slept on the floor yesterday,” Taehyung countered, but his voice held no assertion, no force, and lilted in a way that dared to be argued with. 

“Yeah but there were sweaters and stuff.” There was a slight pout on Jungkook’s lips as he spoke, though weather it was real or merely a counter to Taehyung’s dismissal was unclear. “And we- it is more comfortable when it’s with someone else.”

“What do you expect me to do about it? Shall I strip naked and tie my clothes into a blow-up mattress for you, princess?”

The pout twisted into a frown. “Never mind.”

“Just grow a pair and say you want to cuddle.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh?” Taehyung’s eyebrows raised. “My bad then. Goodnight.” 

He turned away from Jungkook, bunching his jacket under his head in a makeshift pillow. Unmoving, he listened to the other: the minutes of silence that followed, the eventual sigh, the shuffle as he slid closer until he was kneeling behind Taehyung’s back.

“Okay fine,” he said at last. No response. “I said fine.”

“Hm?” Taehyung yawned theatrically, rolling over to stare up into Jungkook’s face.

“That’s what I meant.”

“What do you mean?”

“You were right.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Ugh.” Jungkook threw his face into his hands, fingernails pressing crescent moons into his forehead. “You’re really gonna make me say it?” Taehyung smiled innocently. “I thought you were done being an asshole.”

“Not sure what gave you that impression.”

Another sigh. Jungkook split his fingers, peeking down through the narrow spaces. There was a brief stalemate, gazes locked in a game of unspoken chicken, then Jungkook spoke, voice small. “I… want to cuddle.”

“What was that?”

“Taehyung.”

“No, seriously, I didn’t hear you.”

“You totally did.”

“Mmm, no.”

“I want to cuddle,” Jungkook repeated louder.

“Sorry, one more time? The wind must have messed up my hearing.”

“Forget it.” Jungkook spat, beginning to turn away before being stopped by a hand wrapping around his wrist, holding him in place.

“I’m just messing with you.” Taehyung tugged on the wrist, holding his other arm up slightly in a welcoming gesture. For a moment it seemed like Jungkook would refuse the offer on pettiness alone, but he sunk onto the floor beside Taehyung, staring up into the ceiling. Taehyung poked his side. “What, are you mad at me now?”

“Yes.” Jungkook rolled onto his side, facing away as if that would prove he meant it, and immediately undermined himself by reaching back to grab Taehyung’s arm and wrap it around himself. Taehyung let himself be dragged, his face ending up pressed against the back of Jungkook’s neck.

“Your hair is in my face.”

“Good. You deserve it.”

“Touchy.”

Jungkook didn’t answer, simply tugging the arm tighter. The store grew lighter over time, the first rays of sun creeping through the windows and splattering against the wall above them. Taehyung lay silently, feeling Jungkook’s chest expand and contract as he breathed, the motion so gentle, so human. He could feel the edges of sleep tugging at his mind, blurring the line between his consciousness and dreams, and barely felt when Jungkook rolled back over, pressing himself close. 

“Tae?” The boys voice was barely a whisper. Taehyung felt it puff against his jaw but did not respond, not wanting to break the momentum that was carrying him into slumber. He figured if it was important, Jungkook would wake him up, and if it wasn’t he would go to sleep. But the boy did neither of those things. Instead, Taehyung felt his hand slide up between them, pausing to press against his chest and lingering for a few heartbeats before continuing on its mission until it cupped the side of his face with a feather light touch.

It took every ounce of will for Taehyung to stay still and limp, unresponsive even as he felt Jungkook’s fingertips on his forehead, brushing away the stray hairs that ventured there. For a moment, he wondered if the boy would kiss him, but then the hand left his face, settling back down on his chest, and then Jungkook pressed closer into him, such that when he spoke Taehyung could feel his lips move against the skin of his neck.

“Thank you.”

~ ~ ~

The evening greeted them with cool air and empty streets. Taehyung said nothing about the previous day, Jungkook seeming just as happy to let it stay unmentioned. The walk from the gas station was short, and it didn’t take them long to find the science center, following the signs that proudly hinted at its location. 

There was no sign of the others, at least not yet, and the two of them decided that waiting would be mental torture, so they crept into the building itself, the quiet air jostled by their movement. It was cold inside, the walls long since graced with heat or light, but neither seemed to notice, flashlights shining in the darkness, glinting off of the exhibits. It was an odd sort of sterility, many of the displays untouched, completely ignorant of the carnage that had occurred outside their walls. 

Stopping at an outer space display to marvel at the posters and replicas of the planets, Taehyung squinted, mouth forming around the words that his eyes skimmed across, impersonal facts about the solar system, and its place in the universe. The words were humbling, reminding him of just how small and insignificant they were. Taehyung frowned. Yes, they were insignificant on the grand scale of things, but he liked to think that even their blip of an existence meant something. Maybe not to the universe, but to those who lived in it at least.

Taehyung glanced over his shoulder at a sound behind him. Jungkook shuffled towards him, seeming distracted by the murals of planets and comets that crept up the walls. “Where’s your flashlight?” No response, but Taehyung didn’t particularly mind, having asked half rhetorically. “Did it go out or something?”

“Mm.” It was a meager reply. Taehyung rolled his eyes and went back to studying a diagram of galaxies. 

“Taehyung!” The call rang out from far away, Jungkook’s voice echoing through the halls. Taehyung froze. “Tae?” The voice sounded out gain closer, and Taehyung heard the figure behind him pause, groaning, and he pieced the information together in seconds, flicking off his flashlight and plunging the room into darkness just as the Hungry stumbled closer, confused at the sudden lack of light, its fingers scraping against the wall.

It was close enough to smell the rot of its flesh, hear its teeth snapping together, its bones scraping against paint. Shit. Taehyung could hear Jungkook’s footsteps approaching, and he figured the hungry could as well, as it turned and pushed itself off the wall towards the sound. 

Taehyung weighed his options. He could try to kill it before Jungkook got here. Not enough time. He could yell and warn the other, but the Hungry was between him and the exit of the room, and even without light he would much rather have it not know he was there. The footsteps grew louder. He was running out of time. Silently, he slipped off his backpack, unsheathing the knife strapped to his waist. It was impossible to see anything in the darkness, and the only thing he could navigate on was the meager mental map he had formed in the few minutes of exploring the room. A shitty plan at best. 

A ball of light appeared from around a corner, bobbing up and down as Jungkook trotted closer, and from the reflecting beams Taehyung could see him smile at the Hungry, mouth opening to say something. Making the same mistake he had. 

Jungkook was quicker to assess the situation, smile falling off his face as the Hungry shuddered into action, hobbling towards him on what Taehyung could now see was half of a set of feet, the missing one nothing more than a chewed off stub at the ankle. But though he was quicker to realize, Jungkook did not have the same intuition as Taehyung had, did not react as quickly. He did not, as Taehyung had, flick off his flashlight, but rather dropped it, scrambling for his weapon with clumsy, fear-numb fingers. Too slow.

The Hungry lunged at Jungkook, body weight slamming into the boy and sending them both sliding across the floor. Jungkook let out a cry, hands grasping at its shoulders, trying to hold it back. 

The flesh melted under his touch, more gelatinous than solid. It coated his hands in a thick mucus of decomposed skin and muscle and blood, squeezing out from the spaces between his fingers like pudding as they plunged deeper, until all they could wrap around was bone. “Tae, help me!”

Taehyung’s shoes squeaked against the floor as he rushed over to them, plunging his knife deep into the back of the Hungry and pulling as hard as he could, hoping that the blade would catch on a bone and haul it off of Jungkook. It slipped right through the flesh, however, and thick clots of blood and tissues oozed out of the wound, sliding down the Hungry’s body and dripping onto the floor with a heavy squelch. It didn’t even seem to notice the wound as it dipped its head lower, teeth gnashing centimeters from Jungkook’s face. Taehyung could hear the boy’s cries, his pants, and he lunged again, driving his knife once more forward, this time throwing his body weight into the attack. He felt the edge of the metal scrape against the vertebrae, but the flesh gave easily, too easily, and Taehyung realized too late that he overestimated the force needed to drive the knife into the Hungry, the result of which sent his body crashing into the dead’s. 

There was a sense of vertigo as Taehyung rolled across the floor, stopping only when his head connected with the corner of the hallway with a loud thud. He winced, ears ringing and vision swimming from the impact as he lay gasping, trying to reclaim the breath that had been knocked out of him.

The world was moving in slow motion. He could see the Hungry stagger to its feet, only to lunge at him once more, but the connection between his mind and his body had been scrambled, and he could do nothing but watch as it drew closer. His eyes flicked over to his hand, still lightly wrapped around the knife, bloody up to his elbow, and vaguely remembered that he was supposed to use it to protect himself. Protect Jungkook.

Jungkook. He could see the boy lift himself to his own feet, and Taehyung wondered if he would run, if he would leave him to die. It was the smarter option. The Hungry was close, and Taehyung could see him begin to reach out, ready to pounce. But Jungkook did not run, at least not away from him. Instead, he leaped towards Taehyung, pulling himself over his body just as the Hungry fell, its hands grasping, teeth bared.

Their gazes locked, and suddenly Taehyung was aware of everything. The weight of the two bodies on top of him, the wetness of sweat and blood coating his body, Jungkook’s breath ghosting over his face as he panted, and the look of pain and surprise in the boy’s eyes and the Hungry sunk his teeth into his flesh, tearing at the junction of his neck and shoulder.

The sight was enough to snap Taehyung into the present. His fingers wrapped around the base of the knife tightly, swinging it up, over the shuddering boy on his chest and driving it into the skull of the Hungry until not an inch of blade was exposed. 

All movement stopped as the Hungry went limp, no longer struggling but still heavy. Jungkook’s arms gave out and he collapsed onto Taehyung’s chest, the Hungry’s mouth falling away, the wound left in its place pouring blood onto the both of them.

“Jungkook?” Taehyung breathed, pushing the body off of them to wrap his arms around the other. He could feel the boy shaking, feel his rushed breaths, erratic heart. He sat up, not letting go of the other as he braced himself against the wall, pulling Jungkook onto his lap. One arm remained wrapped tightly around the boy, the other coming up to press against the bite, blood seeping out from under the firm touch. 

“Tae.” His voice was weak, cracking around the name. 

“You fucking idiot.” There was no helping the tears that slipped from Taehyung’s eyes as he spoke, no helping the tightness in his throat or the wobbles of his voice. “Why would you do that?”

“I just,” he swallowed, blood dripping from his lips, “wanted to help. Wanted to save you.”

Taehyung simply shook his head, unable to form words and not trusting his voice even if he could.

“Tae?”

“Yeah?”

“Did I do well?”

The question ripped a sob through Taehyung’s chest. He squeezed Jungkook tighter too him, feeling the thin arms, the body that had suffered the slow starvation that every survivor had learned to live with. And Taehyung recalled the scale of the universe, and the harsh truth of relativity, of insignificance. Because the stars still shone overhead, even as Jungkook shivered in his arms, and the sun would still rise, even though the boy’s blood stained Taehyung’s skin, his clothes, his mind. Because they were nothing more than a tally, a statistic, a ratio of survivors to victims, and the universe had no time for such trivial, insignificant things. 

But Taehyung realized he didn’t care. Because though the stars may sparkle, but they had never laughed with him, never cried with him. Because not a million sunsets could ever live up to the beauty of curious eyes, of pulling someone in close, of humanity and all the mistakes that came with it. Because the universe was nothing more than what Taehyung perceived it to be, and right now what he perceived was Jungkook’s fingers fisted in his shirt, Jungkook’s brows furrowed as his eyes squeezed tight. In pain? In fear? It hardly mattered.

“Yeah, kid, you did well,” he breathed, feeling the boy soften at the words and wondering how long he had been waiting to hear them. “I- I’m so proud of you. You helped us so much, always helped, always did your best. Even if we didn’t deserve it. Even if _I_ didn’t deserve it.” Tears slipped freely from his eyes as he spoke, rewetting the blood that had begun to dry on his face as he babbled, saying anything and everything, all the things he hadn’t said before and all the things he should have. He could feel Jungkook’s shudders ease, but whether it was from his words or from loss of blood Taehyung couldn’t tell. “And you are so far from worthless, no matter what anyone has said to you. Me included. You’re so valuable, worth so much more than… this.”

He sputtered off, and realized Jungkook was crying too, his tears soaking into Taehyung’s shirt, hiccups bouncing from his throat. “Can- can I tell you something?”

“Anything.”

“I really hate caviar.”

A single, humorless laugh burst from Taehyung’s chest. “You ate it all the time.”

“Only because you didn’t want to.”

“I made fun of you for it, didn’t I?”

“You made fun of me for everything.”

“Sorry.”

“S’okay.”

They well into a silence, but Taehyung could still hear Jungkook’s heartbeat, reverberating under his fingertips and resonating in his eardrums. His hand stayed pressed against the wound, but it was a formality more than anything, all he could do.

“Tae?” Jungkook’s voice was nothing more than a breath. His shaking had slowed to a stop, body so cold, so still.

“Yes.” Taehyung lip quivered, eyes burning.

“Don’t let me turn into one of them. I don’t want to be a Hungry.”

“I won’t.” Taehyung knew the consent held within the promise, the permission that he granted the moment he spoke the words into the air around him. 

“Get to Incheon for me.”

“I will.”

“And Tae?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For everything.”

The words tore out every piece of Taehyung’s mind, gutted him until he was nothing more than a husk, a shell of a human. There was nothing he could say to Jungkook that would give meaning to everything he felt, no combination of words in any language that could rectify all that was strung tight between his head and his heart. So he simply held the boy, sobbing into his hair, feeling the blood slow from the wound, feeling his body finally go limp, his breaths go still. And he held him even then, letting the cries tear through him until his throat was raw and his lungs ached, until he had cried himself dry, until he felt Jungkook twitch in his arms and let himself pretend it was really him for only a moment before reaching over to the Hungry that had attacked them and tugging the knife from its skull.

Jungkook’s eyes fluttered open, gazing up at Taehyung in the skewed light from the flashlight, forgotten on the ground, and Taehyung smiled down at him for a fraction of a moment before driving the knife into Jungkook’s temple, his mouth falling open in a silent, eternal scream.


	16. Blank Space

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEW  
> everyone take a breath and enjoy this slightly more gentle chapter after what just happened. For those of you who are still here and don't hate my guts, I thank you. You know, despite being my longest fic, this hasn't actually gotten nearly as much attention as my exo fics. BUT! THAT'S OKAY! I DON'T MIND! I am still so happy and grateful for all of my readers, yall make me light up whenever I see I got a new comment ily beebs. 
> 
> On a less emotional, unrelated to the fic note, have you guys seen the video where Namjoon is like "FRESH. PORK. BELLY. STRIPS" because someone commented how he sounded like a whole brotha and honestly I've been thinking about it all day.

Taehyung wasn’t sure how long he waited. All he knew is that, by the time he saw the approaching figures of Yoongi and Jin, the blood had dried into an itchy, flaky coating on his skin. He didn’t move as they drew closer, guns drawn, didn’t speak when they called his name. He simply sat, as he had been, on the stairs leading up to the center’s entrance, staring down at his blood-stained hands. 

“Jesus Christ,” he heard Yoongi breathe as they drew closer and saw his current state. “Taehyung? Can you hear me? Are you… alive?”

“Yeah.” The word hurt, his throat still aching, raw.

“Are you infected?”

“No.”

“Did you come with anyone?”

The question gave Taehyung pause, and he could feel a new wave of wetness form in his eyes. “Jungkook.” His voice broke on the word. “ _Jungkook_.” He could say no more, not wanting to speak the reality into existence, not give it validation. The others seemed to understand well enough the implications of his voice, the blood, the defeat woven into his posture.

They allowed him a brief silence, then Yoongi murmured out a “check him” to Jin, keeping his gun in his hands but no longer pointing it at the other. Taehyung allowed the inspection, pliable under Jin’s touch as he examined his body for wounds. There were none, of course, but there should have been. There should have been bite marks mottled across his flesh and he should have been lying dead in the building and Jungkook should have been the one being investigated, broken and bloody. But he wasn’t. Because Jungkook was stupid and selfless and naïve and everything Taehyung longed and feared to be.

At Jin’s approval, Yoongi holstered his gun, closing the distance between them to look at Taehyung up close. “You’re filthy,” he noted, frowning at the surrounding area. “I’m gonna take him down to the river, get him cleaned up.”

Jin nodded. “I’ll stay here, keep watch. Stay within shouting distance.”

“We’ll be okay.” Yoongi tugged the backpack from Taehyung’s shoulders, tossing it beside Jin, and lifted Taehyung to his feet.

The river was close, just around the other side of the building, but Taehyung felt exhausted by it, feet dragging across the ground. A numbness had settled in his chest, and though it was better than pain, it was also choking, thick and cold and heavy. Yoongi constantly glanced back at him, worry in his eyes, but said nothing, letting the other mourn, flounder.

Taehyung stumbled past Yoongi when they got to the bank, splashing into the water and sinking to his knees. He didn’t bother taking off his clothes- they were just as dirty as he was- and simply let the water wash over him, the only thing colder than the haze within. Yoongi reached out, grasping one of his hands and rubbing it between his own, lifting off the blood and dirt with light scratches of his finger nails. A hint of copper found its way to Taehyung’s nose, the water reanimating the scents of the night and bringing with them the memories, the emotions. He stared, dull eyed, at Yoongi’s hands as they rubbed up his arms, his legs, images flashing across his eyes.

“Lean back,” Yoongi said eventually, having finished with the lower parts of Taehyung’s body. There was a sterility in his voice, an impersonal nature that Taehyung appreciated, as if he was commanding a dog. And, like a dog, Taehyung obeyed, letting himself fall back onto his elbows until just his face was out of the water. 

Yoongi’s hands laced themselves in Taehyung’s hair, rubbing the mats of clotted blood and filth between his fingers until they softened and released. After his hair was his scalp, nails running across the skin, scrubbing him clean. Last was his face, Yoongi cupping the water and letting it dribble onto his forehead, cheeks, the pads of his fingers rubbing gentle circles wherever the water fell until any trace of death had been lost to the river, diluted and pulled out of sight.

Realizing they were done, Yoongi hesitated, fingers going back to running through Taehyung’s hair simply for something to do. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked at last, caution in his words.

Taehyung didn’t answer at first, didn’t know if he even knew how. There were countless words spiraling in his head, sentences, essays of thought that flitted out of his consciousness’ grasp the moment he focused on them for too long. 

“He saved me.” The confession seemed to surprise them both. “He- he threw himself in between me and- I keep thinking, keep wondering what I could have done. I should have killed it.” His body trembled in the water, cold and exhaustion and anguish stringing his nerves tight. “I should have _killed_ it. Before he even got there. I could have. I was just- I was so scared. It was so close. But I could have killed it. I-”

“Stop,” Yoongi interrupted, voice firm. His fingers withdrew from Taehyung’s hair to wrap around his arm, pulling him back onto solid land. Water dripped from Taehyung’s hair, soaking into the grass beneath him. “You are not to blame for what happened, regardless of how it happened.”

“He’s _dead_. It should have been me.”

“It shouldn’t have been anyone.” Yoongi grasped Taehyung’s hand in his own, squeezing tightly, and Taehyung wondered what he had been like before the Hungries, when everything was good, or better at least. Was this still the man that Hoseok had fallen in love with, or was it a refraction of his self, a mutation born from desperation and the price of survival? Nobody, Taehyung supposed, was the same as before, however some were closer to their original than others. “But that’s just how these times are, how the Njaa are. They take without regard, without reason or mercy.”

“Yoongi?” A voice sounded from behind them. Yoongi spun, letting go of Taehyung’s hand as he sprung to his feet. Taehyung recognized the voice, letting his head fall to the side to confirm it was who he had suspected.

Hoseok stood before them, dirtied but no worse for wear, bag dropping to the ground behind him just in time for Yoongi to throw himself into his arms.

“Hoseok.” His voice was barely audible, Yoongi’s face pressed into his husband’s chest, but the relief it held was distinct. “Fucking hell, I was so worried. I was so worried, baby, I was so scared.” He pulled back slightly, and Taehyung heard him sniffle, once, as he locked eyes with his lover. “God, you look so beautiful right now.

A laugh burst from the other. “I look like shit.”

“ _My_ shit.”

They pressed together into a kiss, and Taehyung rolled to face away from them, partly because he didn’t want to intrude and partly to snuff the little flame of bitterness and envy that had formed in his chest. The movement, however, caught the eye of Hoseok, and he stilled, glancing from the man on the ground to the one in his arms.

“Is he okay?” His voice was quiet, but it was on principle alone, as Taehyung could hear him perfectly fine. “Jin told us what happened. God, I’m so sorry.”

Taehyung’s head whipped around. “Us?” 

“Me and Namjoon,” Hoseok clarified. “Jackson was with us too but,” his face twisted slightly, “he didn’t make it.”

Pushing himself onto his feet, Taehyung peered back towards the center, where the two silhouettes of Jin and Namjoon were huddled together in conversation. So they had all made it. Just not at the same time, not when it mattered. He swallowed the lump in his throat, pushing his thoughts to the side as Hoseok released Yoongi to come embrace him. Taehyung wanted to be angry. He wanted to scream and cry and punch something until his knuckles bled. But he just hugged back, grunting at the other’s tight hold.

“He looked up you, you know.” Hoseok’s words were spoken gently against the shell of Taehyung’s ear, but they still hit him like a sledgehammer to the ribs. 

“I know.”

“Always as talking about you, asking me how to make you like him.” Hoseok shook his head, a soft smile on his lips. “So innocent. That boy probably would have done anything to make you proud of him.”

And it was everything Taehyung didn’t want to hear, but simultaneously everything he needed to hear. His arms wrapped tighter around Hoseok’s back, fingers squeezed into fists. Had he not ached enough already? How much longer must be flounder in agony before he could feel anything other than regret once more?

“He did.”

~ ~ ~

Taehyung watched Namjoon over the rim of his soup can. The man looked… off.

They had set up camp in a nearby high school a couple hours before sunrise. They were all rightfully exhausted, and what little progress they would make had they continued to trek through the city was not worth losing the extra rest. 

It almost seemed unnerving, how easily they all fell back into one another’s company, the ease of routine. Jin handing out their dinners, Yoongi and Namjoon discussing plans and routes for the oncoming days, the former having at least one hand latched onto Hoseok at all times. But Taehyung could not ignore the quiet, the empty spots in their circle. He was around more people than he was before, yet he somehow felt more alone.

Once Yoongi had finished bickering about which streets to take and how long they should spend searching for more supplies and had sauntered off to a corner of the room with Hoseok, Taehyung moved to take his place, settling down beside Namjoon and discarding of his now-empty can.

“Oh, hey,” the man said through a mouth of curried chicken. “You doing okay?”

Taehyung didn’t answer at first, simply squinting at the other through the weak light of the lantern placed in the center of the room. Perhaps it was simply distance, unfamiliarity, circumstance, exhaustion, a thousand more reasons, but Namjoon seemed different, an aura of wrongness surrounding his ever so slightly sluggish movements. “Yeah. But I can tell you’re not.”

The accusation made Namjoon freeze. His gaze found Taehyung’s, and after a moment he stood, jerking his head as indication for the other to follow him into the hallway.

Once they were alone, there was a brief silence between them, Namjoon’s hand tapping against his leg anxiously as he thought of what to say. “How did you know?”

Taehyung scoffed. “How doesn’t everyone else? It’s obvious.”

“To you maybe. No one else seems to have noticed.”

“Maybe they’re so relieved at reuniting our big happy family that they refuse to see what’s right in front of them.” He couldn’t help the hostility in his tone, couldn’t help but spit the words through clenched teeth.

It was not lost to the other, who regarded him warily. “Listen-”

“When?” Taehyung interrupted. “When did it happen? How long have you been lying to Hoseok?”

“Keep your voice down.” Namjoon took a step towards him, glancing back in the direction of the door before sighing. “Jackson got infected and didn’t tell us. Turned yesterday during his watch and attacked me. I managed to kill him, but not before…” He trailed off, waving his hands vaguely to finish his sentence. “Hoseok doesn’t know, none of them know, Taehyung you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

“Fuck that,” he growled. “You’re really going to lie to everyone? Again?”

Namjoon didn’t reply for a moment, eyebrows cinched together, the accusation clearly burrowing into his mind. When he spoke again his voice was gentle, pleading. “It’ll take us four days to get to Incheon. Jackson was just turned, and the bite was on my forearm. I have another day left in me, I know it. Just… just let me get Jin as far as I can. I’ll kill myself before I turn, I promise.”

“This is a bad idea.”

“I’m fine, Taehyung. I’m strong.”

“It has nothing to do with strength.”

“I’m fine.”

“What are you trying to prove?”

The question made Namjoon pause, his gaze falling from Taehyung’s face. “Everything.” 

And Taehyung realized, then, how hard it must have been, how hard it was, for Namjoon. The fate of a country rested on his sole ability to protect, to lead, to transport a single man across said country when most people didn’t survive a walk through a single city. Namjoon had hid it well, the stress, the pressure, under a guise of authority and mock certainty, but Taehyung could see the faults in his armour now, the cracks through which shone uncertainty, fear, doubt. Namjoon was no different than the rest of them. He had suffered, he had lost, he had sacrificed. All for the mission. All for Jin. And Taehyung could understand, could see the desperation in his decisions, see what Namjoon was willing to put on the line to complete his duty until his final breath. There was an honour to it, certainly, but also a cowardice. 

And it wasn’t worth risking everyone else for.

"Tell them tomorrow.” Taehyung said, turning to walk away, leaving the man to stare after him blankly. “If you don’t, I will.”

Jin eyed him as Taehyung as he slipped back into the room, pausing just past the door. A raised eyebrow asked the silent question, and a shake of Taehyung’s head answered it just as quietly. He glanced around the room, realizing just how small the class was. Yoongi and Hoseok were wrapped around each other, already beginning to doze off in a corner, and Jin’s presence dominated the space under the whiteboard. He heard Namjoon come in behind him and suddenly the space felt claustrophobic, too many bodies and none of them the one Taehyung wanted, needed. Too many curious eyes, too many mouths at the ready to form around questions Taehyung wasn’t ready to answer. 

“I’m gonna sleep somewhere else tonight,” he said at last, earning a few questioning looks. “I just- need time. Space. It’s weird, without him here.” 

It was only partly a lie. It was weird, but it was not the actual reason he wanted to be away from the others. Taehyung could feel how utterly spent he was, but he knew sleep would evade him should he choose to spend the night in the same room as Namjoon. He needed the rest. They all did. 

The half lie was convincing enough, it seemed, and Jin nodded, dismissing him with a comment about what time he would wake him up for his watch. Taehyung nodded, turning and half expecting Namjoon to follow him out. The man didn’t, and Taehyung crept through the halls until he found a small closet, placing his boots beside the door so Jin would be able to find him and slipping inside, clicking the lock behind him. Darkness surrounded him on all sides, pressing in with the walls of the tiny space, but it was comforting, a blanket that stole away his senses. He let himself fall to the floor, curling up into himself. Even the closet felt too big, too much space for one person. 

Clutching his bag to his chest, Taehyung let his eyes well up once more, let himself fall apart in the privacy of the darkness until fatigue dragged him into unconsciousness.


	17. Reinhardt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any of you play overwatch? The entire time I was editing this I couldn't get Rein's "HONOR! JUSTICE! REINHARDT REINHARDT REINHARDT!!!" out of my head smh.  
> I was totally planning on posting yesterday but a bitch was tired. So I am posting today. Well, in the last hour of today, at least.  
> oh yeah also  
> :)

Taehyung jolted awake, echoes of his nightmares staining the back of his eyes as he blinked in the darkness. It took him a moment to recall where he was, curled up against one wall of the closet, backpack still in his arms. A knock sounded from the door, and Taehyung assumed that it was its predecessors that woke him from his sleep, the idea confirmed as another series sounded out when he didn’t respond.

Groaning, he pushed himself to his knees, twisting the doorknob and pushing it outward. Jin stood on the other side of the threshold, light from the windows making a soft halo of messy hair around his face. 

“Hey,” he greeted, looking down at Taehyung and his closet with indifference. “It’s you’re shift.”

“What time is it?” The light outside was bright- though everything was bright compared to inside the closet- but the sky was not the intense blue as he suspected but rather a softer shade, telltale of either an early morning or a later afternoon.

“About 4.” Jin paused. “Pm,” he clarified, “Last few hours are yours.”

It was not often that he was granted the final shift. There was a certain hierarchy to it, with the first and last shifts being the most desirable. Usually it was Namjoon that got the final shift, and if not him then Jin.

“I didn’t even bother including Namjoon in rotation tonight.” Jin answered the question before Taehyung had even asked it. “He seemed super tired.”

Humming a reply, Taehyung pushed himself to his feet, stooping to grab his boots and backpack from the floor. He considered, momentarily, telling Jin about Namjoon, but the remnants of sleep made it difficult to think straight, let alone speak. As such, he did no more than grumble as he lumbered past Jin in the direction of the windows and adjacent door that lead outside and served as their lookout point. Someone had dragged a chair to the window and Taehyung slumped into it, peering through the dirty glass. It overlooked a large field, the grass now dead and riddled with garbage and rogue weeds. 

It was, as always, mind numbingly boring to keep watch. Taehyung rested his chin in his hands as he sat, trying to entertain himself with the movement of browned leaves blown across the dirt and the ballet of clouds that pirouetted through the sky. At one point a deer walked across the grounds, sniffing the earth in search of favourable plant life, but was startled away by something out of Taehyung’s line of sight. 

Slowly, the shadows on the ground lengthened, the sky melting into a warmer complexion as the sun snuggled into the horizon. Voices began drifting down through the hallway, and Taehyung took it as his cue to return to the group, internal clocks waking them before he had a chance to.

Hoseok greeted him with a smile as he joined them, sliding a can of spam and half a can of corn his way. Taehyung felt slightly nauseated but accepted them anyways, not wanting to be hungry later. The ham was, as expected, gross and salty, and Taehyung never really liked corn to begin with, but he managed to get them down, taking liberal sips of his water to wash the foul tastes from his mouth afterwards. He sat as far from Namjoon as he could without being obvious, the man being the last to wake up, an emptiness in his eyes.

He looked worse than before. In the dying light of the day, Taehyung could make out the deep bags under his eyes, the dullness of his skin. Even his movements seemed more sluggish, and Taehyung supposed that he did, in fact simply look exhausted, and might have mistaken him for such if he didn’t know better. 

Locking eyes with the man, Taehyung raised an eyebrow, a question, accusation, but the other simply shook his head, taking the food from Hoseok with a look on his face that suggested he felt just as queasy as Taehyung, though likely for different reasons. He stood when Taehyung opened his mouth to speak, wobbling on his feet slightly before marching toward the door, discarding his unopened can into the hands of a confused Jin and indicating for Taehyung to follow. The man didn’t need to be told twice, and he hopped up stalking purposefully after the other. 

“You look like shit,” Taehyung noted once they were a safe distance away, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms. 

“Thanks.”

“This isn’t a fucking joke, Namjoon.”

“You think I don’t know that?” The man snapped, his eyebrows furrowing. “You think I don’t realize the magnitude of this situation?” One hand came up to jab at his chest. “I can feel it. Inside me. It- it’s like my whole body is rotting, like my insides are liquefied and the only thing holding me together is my skin.”

Wincing at the description, Taehyung gestured back the way they came, down the hall and around the corner to where the others were gathered. “Exactly.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Stop being so fucking selfish and get a grip on reality. You’re putting them all at risk. You’re putting _Jin_ at risk. And I’m not about to have come all this way just for your pride to fuck it up. I’m getting to Incheon, and I’m getting Jin there too.”

Namjoon scoffed. “Since when have you been such a white knight? What, are you thinking of joining the forces next? Want to get off to all the honor and glory that comes with the badge? A modern crusader, aren’t you?”

“Go fuck yourself,” Taehyung spat. “I’ve been here since the beginning. I just did what you said because you were our leader. You were in control. Well, guess what? Those days are gone. You’re nothing more than… than a vector now.” He pushed himself off the wall. “And I’m only sorry you don’t see that yourself.”

In two quick steps, Namjoon closed the distance between them, hands pushing against Taehyung’s chest, shoving him back against the concrete. And it was in that moment that the man realized how vulnerable he was; infected or not, Namjoon was a trained soldier, and since neither of them had weapons on them, the man had the obvious upper hand. His eyes held something wild, and Taehyung wondered briefly just how much of Namjoon still remained in his body, if the words and actions were his own or if they belonged to some twisted spawn of the virus, a precursor of the thing he was to be.

Taehyung swallowed, staring into the eyes of the other, not letting his sudden nervousness show through. 

“I would watch my fucking mouth if I were you,” Namjoon growled lowly, one hand remaining on Taehyung’s chest, a reminder, a warning.

“Or what?” Taehyung challenged, voice barely above a whisper, “You gonna bite me?”

The words rolled over Namjoon, his face contorting into something like rage, and he opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by a clear of the throat echoing from down the hall. They both turned their heads to see Jin’s head peaking around the corner, concern written across his features.

“We’re ready to go,” was all he said before disappearing back around the corner, his retreating steps bouncing against the concrete and linoleum. 

When Namjoon looked back, his eyes were softer, lips pulled down slightly. Jin’s interruption, it seemed, had snapped them out of the spiral they were in, quenching the flames that burned on their tongues. “Taehyung-” Namjoon began, but the other merely slapped his hand away, spinning and walking down the hall. He paused at the end, sparing one glare back.

“Like I said.” Taehyung’s voice was hard, cold. “If you don’t tell them, I will. You have an hour.”

~ ~ ~

It was uncomfortably silent as they made their way out of the school and through the streets of the city. Taehyung wasn’t sure if Jin had told the others of what he witnessed, but he supposed he didn’t have to; the tension between Namjoon and himself was obvious enough without context. Hoseok, as usual, tried for a while to ease the energy, making jokes and commenting on mundane, inoffensive things, but even he gave up after a while, retreating back to Yoongi and linking hands with him.

Their scavenging was short lived and half-assed, all wanting to rid themselves of the city and the memories it held. Incheon seemed tantalizingly close, but Taehyung knew they still had many more kilometers to cover, and the distance in between was no different than what they had covered already; infection reaping countless lives and turning any survivors into beasts of desperation and cruelty. 

Taehyung let the hour pass without a word, half offended that Namjoon had called his bluff. He had yet to think of a good time to bring the topic up- no time was ‘good’ really, just less awful than the rest- and as long as Namjoon kept his eyes ahead and his feet steady, Taehyung was content to simply watch him from afar, hands never straying far from his pistol. 

When they stopped for a short break, Taehyung distanced himself slightly, pacing back and forth through an alley, restless. He knew the steaks, knew the hourglass looming above their head like a guillotine. 

“Taehyung?” Jin’s voice jolted his mind back to reality. He froze, turning to face the man and easing the concern from his face in an attempt to look composed. Jin regarded his surroundings with his usual calculating gaze, approaching slowly as if Taehyung was an easily-startled wild animal. He certainly felt like one. 

“Jin, I actually have to talk to you about something.”

“About Namjoon, I presume?” the other guessed, his lips twitching up at Taehyung’s surprised expression. “Taehyung, I studied Units closely for many, many months. I know the signs.”

“Why haven’t you said anything?”

“I was curious as to if you would.”

“Do,” he paused, “do the others know? Yoongi? Hoseok?”

Jin shook his head. “I do not believe so. I haven’t asked them anything about it, but they seem a lot less… concerned with our current situation than you do.”

“How long do you think he has?”

He shrugged. “A day? A few hours? It’s unpredictable. I haven’t taken my eyes off him all night, and I don’t plan to in the near future.”

“We have to tell them.” Taehyung looked nervously back towards the entrance of the alley. What if Namjoon had already changed? What if he was currently feasting on their innards as he and Jin were talking? It was an irrational thought, but still an unshakable one. 

“I agree.” Jin nodded, turning to begin walking away, Taehyung close behind. “Go ahead whenever.”

“What?” The word was quite nearly a squawk. Taehyung grabbed Jin’s arm, spinning him so they were once again facing each other. “Why me?”

“Why anyone?” Jin countered. “Tell me, why didn’t you kill Namjoon the moment you found out he was infected?” The question was unexpected, and it left Taehyung stumbling over his words as he attempted to piece together a rational response. But Jin seemed to expect this and continued before the other had managed to formulate a sentence. “You had plenty of opportunity to, hours even on your watch shift when everyone else was asleep. You would have been blameless. Protecting us. It would take a mere search of his body to prove that.” He paused for a moment, cocking his head. “Yet you didn’t. Want to know why?”

“Why?” Taehyung’s mouth felt dry as he whispered the question. 

“Because he’s not dead.” Jin smiled. “Not yet, at least. He will die, but so will the rest of us. Eventually. So how, pray tell, is killing him any different than killing me? Or Yoongi? Or Hoseok?” He shook his head. “He’s not a threat. Yet. But that ‘yet’ matters to you, doesn’t it?” Taehyung felt small, dissected. He didn’t answer any of Jin’s questions, letting his hand fall from the man’s arm to hang limply by his side. “Telling them won’t save him, but if it makes you feel better, like I said: go ahead.” He cast one more look at Taehyung before turning away, leaving him once more alone in the alley that suddenly felt too small and exceptionally large all at once.

~ ~ ~

“We need to talk.” It was a murmur in Yoongi’s ear, Taehyung’s hand ghosting over his shoulder. “Privately.” The man gave him an odd look, glancing at Hoseok briefly before letting go of his hand and slowing his pace so that he and Taehyung trailed behind everyone else.

“What’s going on?” Yoongi seemed to sense the severity in Taehyung’s tone, keeping his own voice low and not taking his eyes off the road ahead of them. 

Taehyung figured there was no way to sugar coat the confession that would make it any less horrid. “Namjoon’s infected.”

“What?’ Yoongi stopped walking entirely as he hissed the word. “We haven’t even come into contact with any Njaa.”

“Jackson bit him after he turned.”

“You’re not serious?” Yoongi glanced to wear Jin and Namjoon kept their pace, far ahead of the rest of them, Hoseok wandering somewhere in the middle, waiting for them to catch back up. “That was when he was with Hoseok. Fuck, they were together a whole _day_. Alone. He- he could have-”

“He didn’t,” Taehyung interrupted before the man could finish. “Hoseok’s fine. You can see that. But I don’t know how much longer Namjoon will last.”

“What are we waiting for then?” Yoongi released him, setting a brisk pace back towards the rest of the group. Jin had fallen back to talk with Jin, sending a handful of knowing looks back at Taehyung. “Let’s pop him right here right now.”

Taehyung rushed to keep up with him, grabbing lightly at his jacket. “Hold on, wait, Yoongi don’t.” He pulled the man to a halt once more. “He hasn’t changed yet.”

Yoongi snorted. “But he will. And I’m not going to wait around for it.”

“Jesus, just listen. I didn’t tell you so you could just up and kill him.”

“Why did you tell me, then?”

“Because you deserve to know.”

“Damn right I do.” Yoongi shook the hand from his clothes. “You should have told me the moment you found out.”

“I-”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you and Namjoon sneaking around; I heard you arguing. I knew something was up, I just didn’t think you would be such a fucking puppet as to keep something like this from us.” He looked at Taehyung with a mixture of disgust and betrayal, eyeing him up and down before settling on his face. “I could expect something like this from Jin, but I would have hoped you were better than that.”

Taehyung couldn’t help the contempt in his voice as he spoke, taken aback and defensive. “I’m telling you now, aren’t I?” He glanced over Yoongi’s shoulder, his attention grabbed by sudden commotion. In the distance, Namjoon collapsed, pushing himself to his feet only to fall back to his knees. Hoseok’s voice carried back to them, a call of Namjoon’s name, but it was Yoongi who snapped to attention at the sound, eyes wide as Hoseok began rushing to the aid of Namjoon, Jin reacting slower and trailing a few seconds behind him.

“Fuck.” Taehyung wasn’t sure which of them spoke, but it didn’t matter, both breaking out into a run.

Hoseok reached the man first, and Taehyung could see him kneel in front, hands coming up to cup Namjoon’s face. What did he see when his eyes fell on Namjoon’s face? Was the man still breathing, his eyes dull but alive? Was he no more than a shell, did his gaze hold no regard for Hoseok’s gentle expression, worry creasing the boy’s eyebrows?

Jin stumbled to a stop a few feet away, drawing his gun and pointing it at the kneeling pair. He said something to Hoseok, not loud enough for Taehyung to hear from the distance, getting closer but still too far. 

Frowning, Hoseok looked between the man in front of him and the one with the weapon aimed his way, holding up a hand to Jin, obviously confused at the presence of the pistol. Jin said something more, and Hoseok’s eyes widened, darting to the two men running his way, realization dawning on his face.

There was a brief moment of chaos as Namjoon’s body shuddered to life and he propelled himself forward, slamming Hoseok to the ground beneath him as the man held his hands up in defense, trying to push him back in an unintelligible mass of limbs and backpacks and jackets. Then a bang echoed off the streets as Jin unloaded a bullet into Namjoon’s skull, silencing the man.

“Hoseok!” Yoongi’s voice was panicked as they drew near, both of them heaving, breathless. His legs wobbled as he approached the bodies on the ground, clutching his chest when he saw Hoseok shove Namjoon’s body off of him. “Hobi, thank god. Hell, baby, I, I thought-”

The words died on Yoongi’s tongue, relief turning to ash as Hoseok pushed himself up and, wincing, held his hand up in front of him, squinting at it. Liquid dripped off his fingers, and Taehyung felt his heart sink in his chest when Jin clicked on his flashlight, confirming what exactly it was that coated the digits.

Blood. It sprung from a crescent of incisions that started just under Hoseok’s pinky, stretching up into his palm and curving back down towards his wrist. The wounds were small, blood already starting to slow, but Taehyung knew it didn’t matter, knew that the deed had already been done. Namjoon had bitten Hoseok, and they had been too slow to do anything about it.


	18. Ash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so halfway through proofreading this my roommate told me he moved my laundry into the dryer which is like... a total invasion of my privacy and completely disrespectful like dont touch my shit without asking me its common decency what the fuck I got so mad at him it wasn't even like it was sitting there for a long time I just wanted to finish eating dinner before moving it but I guess I can't even have that huh fuck me I guess who needs privacy when you have guys you've only known a few months handling your underwear  
> ANYWAYS where I'm going with this is if you see some mistakes its because I couldn't focus in proofreading because I was so tilted.  
> and YES I totally chewed him out for it.

Yoongi fell to his knees before his lover, eyes never leaving the injured flesh of his hand, pain splayed across his face. “Hoseok.” His voice was more broken than anything Taehyung had heard before, a coalescence of disbelief and agony. Slowly, he reached out to grasp the hand, cradling it gently. “N-no. No, no, no, god please.”

Swallowing, Hoseok’s eyes trailed from Taehyung and Jin’s desolate gazes before he knelt down to Yoongi, cupping the man’s face.

What could be said? What words could rectify the situation, soothe the burn that ached in their hearts? There were none, and as such they lingered in the silence that encompassed them, mourning something they had not yet lost. 

“Tell me I’m dreaming.” It was Yoongi that finally broke through the quiet, his voice begging, desperate. “Tell me this isn’t happening.” No one answered. No one _could_ answer. Hoseok merely breathed deeply, swiping away a rogue tear that had escaped Yoongi’s eye with his thumb. 

“Baby-”

“We almost made it. We’re so _close_.” The words were hushed as Yoongi spoke, slow, delicate. “We’re so close,” he repeated, louder this time, and turned to Jin. “We can still make it. Right? If we move fast. We can get to Incheon before he…” He didn’t finish the sentence, didn’t need to. “Right, Jin?”

Jin blinked, surprised at the question directed at him. “I don’t think-”

“Namjoon had just turned. Look how small the bite is. Look at it!” Yoongi’s words quickened, frantic, as he tugged Hoseok’s hand out before him. “We can get there in time.”

“Yoongi, he’ll turn before then. Even if we get there-”

“ _When_ we get there.”

“I can’t help him.”

Yoongi paused for a moment, contemplative. Then he nodded, standing and pulling his gun from his holster and aiming it at Jin. 

Taehyung jumped back. “Woah, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Don’t,” Hoseok pleaded.

“Shut up.” The man’s face was twisted, voice a snarl. He took a step towards Jin, who seemed slightly nervous but remained composed, not backing up as the other approached. “Give it to him now then.”

“Stop this, baby.”

“Put the fucking gun down.”

“I said shut up!” Taehyung wined as the man shot him a glare, all rationality gone from his countenance, replaced with a savage desperation. And he could understand, could imagine the hurricane of emotions likely laying wreckage to the other’s mind, his heart. It was enough to drive a man insane. Yoongi turned back to Jin. “Give it to me. Now. Or I swear to god I will kill you right now and take it myself.”

“Enough.” Considering the situation, Jin sounded surprisingly calm, the only indication of nervousness being in his eyes, which were trained on the gun pointed at him. “Put that thing away. Let’s be rational here.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“I understand that you’re upset, but-”

“ _Upset_?” Yoongi echoed, the word sending chills down Taehyung’s spine. “Look at him. Look at what you’ve done, you piece of shit. He’s infected because of you. Because you wanted to play god. Because you are so fucking self-exalted that you don’t care what everyone else has to sacrifice and lose as long as you are safe. Fuck that. Fuck you.” He shook off Hoseok’s hand, which had come up to gently tug at his arm, trying to lower the gun. “Give me the cure. You have five seconds. Five, four-”

“He cannot be helped.”

“Bullshit!” His voice cracked on the syllables, a small flaw in the mask of anger and authority he donned. “Fix him!”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” It was then that Yoongi closed the remaining distance between them, pushing Jin back roughly with his free hand. “Why not?” he repeated, punctuated with another shove.

“Because it’s not a cure!” Jin cried out, finally allowing his composition to slip.

The confession washed over them slowly, thickly, a tsunami of tar that oozed around them and stuck them in their places. Taehyung froze, his gaze snapping from Yoongi to fix on Jin. The man swallowed, shrinking under the three sets of eyes leveled on him, gazes hard. 

“What did you just say?” It was Hoseok that spoke, barely audible.

“It’s not a cure.” Taehyung wondered if this was the first time he had heard Jin like this: defeated, ashamed. It must have been. “I’m sorry. I- I can’t help him. Not now, not at Incheon.”

“Then what,” Yoongi swallowed thickly, and Taehyung could see his hands shaking. Out of anger? fear? “Have we been coming all this way for? What have we been fighting for, dying for? What justifies this?”

Jin’s eyes flicked between the three of them, his mouth twisting. There seemed to be a moment of acceptance that crept across his face as he realized there was no taking back his words, no squirming out from under their stare. “It’s not a cure, no.” one hand came up to run through his hair, and Taehyung could see how exhausted he looked. “But it’s all we got.” His eyes once more found the gun, still extended in the air between them. “Can you at least lower that?”

“No.” Yoongi’s eyes were hard. “Finish speaking, then I’ll decide if I’m going to shoot you or not.”

There was a moment of consideration before Jin sighed, yielding. “The strain that we isolated doesn’t turn the Units back into people, nor does it kill them. That would have been ideal, but we simply didn’t have enough time or resources. What it _does_ do is override the part of the Units mind that distinguished between the living and already infected. As a result, any Units exposed to the new strain will see the infected the same way they see us.”

“So they’ll eat each other?” 

“Exactly. All we’ll have to do is disperse it in the major groupings, cities mostly. The old and new DNA will merge together and spread throughout the country, passed from Unit to Unit much like how they spread in the first place.”

“That was what was back at the lab, isn’t it?” Memories of Gwangju flashed across Taehyung’s mind, the Hungry that was nothing more than a torso, its limbs chewed into stubs. “The hungries in the cells, they had the new strain, didn’t they?”

Jin nodded. “Yes. The new strain doesn’t kill them directly, per say, but rather makes them kill each other. Any remaining Units, in the absence of food, will begin to eat themselves, effectively making them much less of a threat, easier to finish off.” He shrugged, holding his hands up in a noncommittal gesture. “Like I said, it’s not ideal, but it’s all we have.”

“Why didn’t you tell us? Why lie?” Taehyung nodded in agreement at Hoseok’s question. He had always suspected there was more to the cure than what they were told, but he could have never guessed it was as important a feature as this. 

“We considered being honest but,” Jin’s gaze leveled on all of them, challenging. “Would you have stayed with us had you known the truth? Would you have risked as much as you did without the thought of salvation at steak?”

“You selfish, manipulative bastard.” Yoongi looked close to pulling the trigger, regarding the man with the purest form of loathing.

“Yes,” Jin agreed. “I know how I must appear to you right now, and I understand. What I did was wrong, but there is no taking it back, and all that I have done since then is only in the interest of the country. I did what I had to.”

“Bullshit. It was in the interest of your damn self.”

“We are all trying to survive, and we’ve all done bad things to allow for such.”

“Don’t you dare compare yourself to us.” Yoongi’s eyes held something dark, narrowed and sharp. “ _We_ didn’t manufacture these monsters. _We_ didn’t lie to the people who were willing to put their lives on the line just so we could use them as body shields later on. _We_ are trying to somehow survive the mess that you made. You are not like us. You are no better than the Njaa, in fact, you’re worse.”

“You think I don’t live with the weight of the deaths that I’ve caused?” Jin snapped, voice defensive. “You think I don’t feel that number hanging over my head like a guillotine? It’s in the _millions_. Do not fool yourself into thinking that I have come this far unscathed. I have lost _everything_. So excuse me for doing all I can to try to at least begin to fix this shitshow before I die.” He turned from them, adjusting his backpack on his shoulders. “It ate me up inside to lie to you all, especially when I knew how much trust you were putting in us. But I do not regret it. I would not take it back.” He began walking away but paused, throwing one more glance over his shoulder at the trio still staring at him. “I’m sorry, Hoseok.”

Taehyung watched him leave. The feeling of numbness had returned with a vengeance, and he stood, paralyzed, unable to process all that he had witnessed. It was better, he supposed, than the guilt he was sure would follow. He was not faultless; his hands were stained red just as Jin’s were. He had lied too, he had withheld Namjoon’s infection for just as long. But it was his humanity that had pushed him to do so, his desperation to cling onto what little sense of family he had cultivated. Perhaps Jin was the same, perhaps not. It did not matter; intention and reason did not change the outcome.

The gun remained fixed in the air until Hoseok reached out to push it down, pulling it from Yoongi’s grasp and holstering it for him. “We should go with him.”

“What?” Yoongi turned to face him. “Look at what he did to you.”

Hoseok shook his head. “He didn’t do this. Not directly, at least.”

“No.” Shaking his head, Yoongi stooped to grab his own bag, glaring once at the vague silhouette of Jin’s retreating form. “I’m done with him. I’m not going to protect him when he doesn’t give two shits about us.”

“What choice do you have? Baby, the lab will be safe. It’s much better than trying to live out here.”

“Who says it’ll be safe?” Yoongi countered. “Who says they’ll even let us in? They don’t know us, they don’t care about us. All that we are going on is Jin’s word, and we know how much that is worth.”

“Maybe, but is it any worse than the alternative?” The man didn’t answer, so Hoseok sighed, turning to Taehyung. “You’ll come with me, right Tae?”

“Uh.” The man blinked, needing a moment to process the question. Would he? He knew Yoongi had a point, knew he could no longer trust Jin. But any outcome that awaited them along the path to Incheon could be no worse than the alternatives that existed throughout the country, and there was no telling what would become of him either way until he was faced with it directly. Fuck it. “Yeah, I’m going.”

Yoongi scoffed. “You’re going to stick with him? After all this? Look what happened to Hoseok. Look what happened to Jungkook.” Taehyung winced at the name. “Your blind loyalty is pathetic.”

“I’m not going for Jin.” Taehyung tried to look unaffected by the words, knew it was obvious anyways. “Quite frankly he could die in a ditch and I wouldn’t bat an eye. I’m going because I’m ready for this whole thing to be over with. Hoseok is right; anything the lab can throw at me isn’t worse than everything I’ve already experienced.”

He turned, waiting for Hoseok to join him before starting off in the direction that Jin left. He knew Yoongi would join them, if not for Jin than for Hoseok, and he was grateful. There was no ignoring ticking clock that was rooted in Hoseok’s hand, counting down to an unknown time in which someone would have to ease him into the afterlife. Taehyung didn’t want to do it, not again.

~ ~ ~

Hope was a funny thing. When everything was destroyed, when all someone cared about was torn from them, when all that surrounded them was darkness and death and loss, they pushed onward. From spite, at first, anger. But that could only carry them for so long, time and distance fading the fire within into a faint desolation, but even then they made footprints in the earth, one in front of the another, innumerable and unfaltering. Always moving forward. Because as long as a light shone in the darkness, no matter how distant or dim, they would always move towards it, one step at a time, driven not by anger, not by will, but by hope. Hope for a better future, for a salve to the ever-present pain that plagued them, hope for a tomorrow run by progress and growth and truly living rather than just surviving.

Taehyung saw that hope in himself, despite everything, night after night. He saw it in Jin’s purposeful footsteps, the stubbornness for his cause. He saw it in Hoseok’s eyes as he stared at his love, praying for a future that he would not be a part of. Taehyung did not see it in Yoongi. At first, maybe, but as the night turned to day it flickered like a candle held in the wind. And when Taehyung woke at sunset, it was nothing more than an ember, held alive by only Hoseok’s hand clutched in Yoongi’s own. And when he heard Hoseok’s voice whisper “it’s time” the next morning as Taehyung pretended to be asleep, and when he heard two sets of footsteps leave and one return, and when he looked upon Yoongi’s face, peered into his blank, reddened eyes, he saw nothing more than ash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See I kinda made it less sad by writing hoseoks death in exposition rather than scene. So its better, right? No? You want me dead in a ditch? that's fair.
> 
> ALSO remember when I said this whole fic was based on an offhand comment my sister made? This is the chapter that reveals it! We were watching train to busan and she was like "Why is it that in every zombie movies they just eat people? They never eat eachother." and I was like OwO


	19. An Ode to Giving a Damn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys!!!!! This is the second last chapter!!!! Can you believe that!!! I'm so honored that you all have decided to come on this journey together with me and pushed onward despite be being an asshole to my characters ;_;  
> yall make me so happy you have no idea.

The space around him seemed too empty. Taehyung didn’t look up from the ground as they walked, following a river that Jin said would take them Northwest for a while. The sound of the water was comforting, filling the air with its musical bubbling. None of them spoke of the previous night. They walked, rested, ate, but did not dare to break the quiet that suffocated them, did not mention what had happened. 

Throwing a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure Yoongi was still trailing behind, Taehyung caught up to Jin and settled into pace beside him. The man was studying a map, brows furrowed slightly and eyes squinting in what little light his flashlight provided. It was darker than usual, and Taehyung wondered how long it would be before it sputtered out completely. Batteries weren’t exactly easy to find.

“We should find a place to stay.” Taehyung didn’t bother trying to decipher where they were on the map or which direction they were headed. He only hoped Jin wasn’t faking knowing where they were.

“We still have a few hours of darkness.” Jin didn’t look up at him as he spoke. “I’m thinking if we push a bit harder tonight, we’ll be able to make it to Incheon before sunrise tomorrow. Otherwise we’ll have to split the last bit into two days.”

“Jin, I’m exhausted. And I know you are, too.” Taehyung sent another glance back behind them. “Yoongi looks about ten steps from collapsing. Give it a rest, if we have to wait another day then so be it.”

“You guys can stop if you want to, but I-”

“Can you stop pulling that shit?” Frustration lined the words, the tone sharp enough that Jin looked up in surprise. “This whole ‘lone wolf’ thing,” Taehyung explained. “This whole ‘I’ll go by myself because you guys obviously don’t care as much as I do’. It’s bullshit.”

“I’m not sure where you got that from.”

Taehyung snorted. “Please. Don’t act like you don’t know. Look at what we’ve been through. Look at where we are. Don’t you think we deserve a bit more loyalty than this? If Namjoon were here-”

“Namjoon isn’t here,” Jin snapped. “He’s dead. Or did you forget that?”

“I haven’t forgotten. And quite frankly, I don’t think I ever will.” There was no helping the defensiveness in Taehyung’s voice, prickled by the accusation. “But he got us this far. How is that? How is it that everyone of us, each and every one of us, stayed? We followed him with boundless loyalty. We followed him even after he lied, even when it wasn’t in our best interest to. We followed him blindly into Hungry-infested cities, into that hellhole that was the lab in Gwangju, into situations and places that we didn’t even know how we would get out of alive- _if_ we would get out alive. Hell, we would have followed him anywhere. You know why?” Taehyung spat, mouth twisting in disdain. “Because he actually gave a damn. And not just about the mission. About us, too.”

Jin was quiet for a moment, Taehyung’s words hanging in the space between them. Then, with an air of authority, folded the map and slipped it into his pocket. “You’re right. Namjoon cared. But nowadays caring is a luxury. Look at what it did to-” he cleared his throat, sentence sizzling out as if he knew just how dangerous the words following would be. When he spoke again, his voice was soft, vulnerable. “I used to have a team of scientists backing me. There was so much hope in them, every single day, no matter how many times we failed. They were always ready for the next attempt, always looking for what we did wrong, what we could do better. 

Then one day I wake up and they wouldn’t let me in the lab.” He shook his head. “ _Me_. There weren’t many people that could prohibit me from doing what I wanted, and not many reasons they would do such. I knew it was bad even before they told me the virus had leaked. I was rushed from the bunker to the surface with the rest of the still living employees of the lab. Do you know what I saw?” 

He paused, letting the question sit for a moment, though Taehyung did not answer. “One of my team members. Just one. He was covered in blood, shaking, and when he saw me he tried to run over, started yelling that the others hadn’t made it out, that he had watched them die, that he was sorry. God knows what for. A few officers held him back, so he couldn’t actually approach. They were inspecting him, pulling off his clothes. At first I didn’t know why, but then I saw it.”

Raising a finger, Jin traced out the shape of a crescent moon over his collarbone. “A bite. Right here. The moment the soldiers saw it they let him go, threw him to the ground. I knew what was coming, but I couldn’t look way. All this time, he was crying, begging me for forgiveness. I think he just wanted someone to abolish all his sins before he died. But I’m not a priest, so I said nothing in return. Then they put a bullet through his eyes and he went silent.” Taehyung’s stomach twisted. He looked away from Jin, eyes settling onto the river rocks that crunched and shifted underfoot. 

“I should have said something,” Jin admitted. “I should have said I forgave him, if only so his last moments could be in peace.” He glanced over his shoulder and lumbered to a stop. Yoongi was getting a bit too far for comfort, his silhouette lurching in such a way that had Taehyung not known better he could have mistaken the man for a Hungry. “When we first met and you thought I had the cure, you had the exact same look on your face as my team members. Such… naïve hope. Jungkook had it too. Maybe even Jimin. And for a while I thought that it was a sign that I could rebuild our future like I rebuilt my team, that we were all going to get to Incheon in one piece, the way it should have been to begin with. But we didn’t, did we?”

Taehyung’s eyes never left Yoongi. “No,” he agreed softly. “We didn’t.”

“So yes, Namjoon cared, but though I admire him for it I can’t fathom ever putting myself in such a position again. I refuse to relive that vulnerability. So if it comes off like I don’t give a damn, it’s because I don’t. I _can’t_.”

Frowning, Taehyung opened his mouth to speak. He wanted to tell Jin that he was wrong, wanted to shake him and scream that caring was more than just vulnerability, that it was something to hold onto, something to keep him sane, something to keep him human. But Yoongi had reached the pair, staring at them with a blank face, waiting for further instruction.

Jin jerked his head towards the top of the river bank. “That’s enough for tonight. There’s a neighborhood up there; we’ll camp there.”

Slipping his finger’s between Yoongi’s, Taehyung nodded, tugging the man in the indicated direction. It was routine by now, the redundancy of checking locks, looking for broken windows, and it had a numbing effect on Taehyung, like he was moving in autopilot. The suburbs were always an easy find, and in no time at all they had settled into a quaint one-story with interior decoration that looked like it hadn’t been updated in a few decades. It didn’t matter; shelter was shelter, no matter how awful the wallpaper nor how garish the carpeting. 

Letting Jin take the first shift, Taehyung grabbed a bag of dried meat and a can of diced tomatoes and made his way to the room he had seen Yoongi slink into.

“Here.” He tossed the bag on the bed.

“I’m good.” Yoongi didn’t move from his position, laying on his side with his back to the door.

Taehyung frowned. “You haven’t eaten anything all night. You need nutrition, calories, all that good stuff.”

“’M not hungry.”

“Stop it.” Taehyung flopped onto the bed beside him, sitting with his back against the headrest. He reached down to retrieve the meat, tearing open the bag and inhaling deeply. He had been saving it for a special occasion and decided that this was such. “Here.” Plucking out one of the pieces with his fingers, he reached over Yoongi and dangled it in front of his face, wiggling it enticingly.

“I said no.”

“And I said stop.” Taehyung couldn’t muster any force in his voice, hoping that the intended authority was received. “You need to talk about this; it won’t help to just hold it in and let it fester.”

“What’s there to talk about?” The words were snapped, holding the bite that Taehyung’s had been missing. “It is what it is.”

“Well, for starters, you could talk about how you’re feeling.”

“I feel like shit.”

“A bit more specific.”

“I _really_ feel like shit.”

“Yoongi.”

“How the fuck do you expect me to feel, Taehyung?” The man rolled over to glare up at the ceiling. Despite the harshness of his words Taehyung could see a wetness brimming in his eyes. “Hoseok’s gone. Dead. Not coming back. The love of my life, my other half. Gone. Just like that.” He snapped to emphasize his point. “And I’d know, because I was there. I did it. I had to watch the light disappear from his eyes, I had to feel him go limp in my arms, I had to fucking _kill him_.”

Taehyung shuddered, the description too close to his own memories for comfort. But it wasn’t about him, not now. “You’re right,” he agreed, the words seemingly a surprise to the other, whose gaze flickered to his face. “He’s gone. And that really, really fucking sucks. More than either of us can put into words. But it doesn’t have to be in vain. It doesn’t have to be meaningless. You can carry on with him in your heart. Make it to Incheon for the both of you.”

“It-” Yoongi’s voice cracked on the syllable as twin tears rolled down either side of his face. “It’s not the same. It will never be the same.”

“No, but it’s better than nothing. Better than the alternative. Don’t let one death turn into two.” He peered down into the bag. “Do you want to die?”

The question was asked innocently, but the silence it seeded was anything but. Taehyung knew he wouldn’t, couldn’t, blame Yoongi if he said yes. After all, what was left of the world after the best had been torn away? What was there to cherish, to make it all worth it? Taehyung had seen a lot of evil. He had felt the painful bite of winter chewing at his skin through his tattered clothes, felt aches of bruises and the sting of disinfectant on lacerations. He had felt the throb of fists connecting with his skin long after they had vanished, felt the burn of welts born from leather and alcohol. But he would take any and all of it over heartache, over loss. Because physical wounds were localized, tangible. To grieve was a different kind of agony all together; he felt it in every cell, every breath, every neuron, like a fire consumed his flesh except that instead of hot it was paralyzingly cold.

“No,” Yoongi said at last, the word so quiet Taehyung wondered if he had imaged it at first. “I don’t want to die. I want to live. For his sake, at least.”

“Then,” Taehyung drawled the word, once more offering up the meat, “fucking act like it.”

Yoongi hesitated, regarding the food as if it were some foreign object, alien and uncertain. Another tear slipped from his eye but this time it was joined by a delicate smile, and he reached up, pulling the meat from Taehyung’s hand and dropping it into his mouth.

~ ~ ~

“I’m sorry.”

The words surprised Taehyung, who had been zoned out, his mind far off in a place of happiness, of decisions that didn’t end in regret. He felt a squeeze on his left hand, and glanced quickly to the side, seeing Yoongi’s blank, distant expression, eyes unfocused. The man didn’t speak often, but Taehyung could tell he was thinking, occasional expressions flicking across his face, the shadows of conversation grumbling in his throat, his fingers closing tightly around Taehyung’s every so often. The hand-holding had begun simply as a way to stick together, make sure Yoongi was keeping up with the others, but there was also a comfort in it, though neither man would admit it aloud. “Huh?”

“I’m sorry,” Jin repeated. “What you said yesterday. You’re right; I haven’t been fair to you. Either of you.” He looked uncomfortable at the sincerity, not looking toward the other as they walked, but didn’t let it stop him. “I just couldn’t bear to watch us fall apart like that. To die one by one. First Jimin-”

“We don’t know if Jimin’s dead.”

“No, but don’t you hope he is?” The question made Taehyung recoil slightly, but he couldn’t deny that he did. Even death was better than life under Jaebum’s rule; Jackson knew that, died for it. “Then Jungkook, Namjoon- God, it just all spiraled out of control so quickly. I lost everything. Again.”

“Not everything.” Taehyung reached his free hand out, interlacing his finger’s with Jin’s. The man’s eyebrows darted up but he didn’t pull away, eventually relaxing into the touch. He was sure the three of them looked ridiculous; armed to the teeth, dirty and covered in old bruises and scabs, faces worn with exhaustion and stress, yet holding hands like children on a field trip, skipping through sunlit meadows. 

But it was not like there was anyone around to judge them anyways.

Jin’s lips twitched upward, fighting the smile that begged to cross his face. “Just make sure you don’t die.”

“I could say the same for you.” It was Yoongi that replied, unexpected but welcome. “I swear if we came all this way just for you to get infected one day away from the lab I will personally invent resurrection just so I can kill your bitch ass again.”

Laughter- muffled, of course; even the night had terrors that sound could rouse- bubbled from the group, bouncing off of the concrete and giving life to the city’s industrial skeleton. A rabbit, startled by the sudden noise, bolted from out of a bush beside them across the road, which caused them all to jump in fear, only to then laugh even harder. They debated the details of such resurrection, whether Jin could be classified as a Hungry then- ‘the best looking Unit you’ll ever see’- and if Yoongi would bring him back a second time after killing him- ‘hell no, I’m leaving your body in a ditch’- and maybe it was slightly fucked up to joke about but Taehyung figured that by now joking about it was the only catharsis they had. And for a while, everything seemed trivial, less severe. Taehyung allowed himself the sense of ease, the light-hearted joy that so often was excluded in the daily budget of luxuries. After all, he knew that the days to come still held tribulations and horrors, that the sense of contentedness would once again be choked out by the harsh cruelty of survival. But for now, all he could do was laugh.


	20. All That We Can Be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I'm going to leave all my sappy love notes for you guys at the end of chapter notes because I want to focus on some stuff first and foremost.
> 
> 1) So I already got an idea from a reader for one of the things I want to write next (Part 2 of Exxus, so if any of you love that gory stuff stay tuned!!!) but I am alwaaaays open to new ideas please send me in ideas for one shots.  
> 2)I've been told that my fic, when updated, doesn't actually appear at the top of the works list. I don't know if this is an AO3 bug, if its because the warnings/tags on the fic, or if its just the weird hours I update, but either way people aren't seeing it! Now, I am by no means an attention hog, but I would still love to share this bitch of a fic with as many people as I can so even more can come on this journey. I bled for this yall. So! I humbly ask that you recommend it to your friends if you enjoyed it (or even if you didnt. let them suffer too) so I can get it out there uwu  
> 3) THIS is the chapter that marks this fic's official title as longest piece I've written! IOFT is finally overthrown!!!

Incheon’s skyline stretched out before them, massive sky scrapers jutting out over the horizon like a jagged-toothed grin. A breeze ruffled Taehyung’s hair- when had it gotten so long? He wondered if he would be able to find scissors somewhere- bringing with it the faint scent of salt water. It was odd seeing it like this; silent, dark, no lights illuminated on its buildings, no bustle of people or hum of traffic. It was a husk of what it once was, a skeleton. It gave Taehyung chills. Cities had been hit the worst, the dense population letting the virus spread ferociously. He didn’t want to think about how many Hungries awaited them in its streets, lurked around every corner.

“Where’s the lab?” He squinted ahead into the darkness, eyes scanning over the buildings and houses spread over the land like peanut butter. 

“Near the water. Do you know where central park is?” Taehyung hummed in reply. Pointing to the west, not that it helped much in the darkness, Jin pulled out his map, tracing along the liens indicating streets. “It might be better to avoid going through the heart of the city. There a bridge we can take a bit south west of here.”

“Bridge?” Yoongi raised his eyebrows. “Is that safe? Not exactly many escape routes if we get cut off.”

“You’re right, but I’m hoping there won’t be any Units on it anyways. I can’t imagine it being a hub of activity once the virus hit.” Jin raised the map, pushing it in Taehyung’s direction. “What do you think?”

Taehyung knew it was a formality more than anything, that Jin was simply making an effort to treat them as equals rather than genuinely asking for his opinion. He played along, however, eyes dragging over the roads in an attempt to look like he knew where they lead. “Either way is a risk,” he said at last. “We can either have a bigger chance of Hungries or better escape routes should we run into any. I’m for bridge.”

A quick non-oppositional grumble from Yoongi was all it took before they started off in the correct direction, the landscape morphing between houses and empty fields. They passed a golf course, the greens long since cared for, and found themselves on a road that Jin told them would take them to the bridge. Taehyung could see nature just barely beginning to reclaim the space; weeds pushing up through the cracks near the edges of the asphalt, animal droppings littered between vehicles. Something growled at them as they passed one car, its driver’s window smashed in and the remaining tinted ones preventing them from seeing what it was. They laughed it off nervously.

It was less than two hours later that they came to the edge of the bridge, thankfully shorter than what Taehyung had imagined it to be. Even so, his stomach felt heavy as he took his first steps onto it, realizing just how vulnerable the position was. It was unlikely, of course, that they would be attacked from both ends of the bridge, but the thought didn’t leave Taehyung’s mind as he crept along behind Jin, feeling Yoongi squeeze his hand in encouragement. He peaked over the edge of the platform, the water far below dark and quiet, and wondered how Namjoon would have fared crossing such a height. 

There were few cars abandoned on their side of the road, most people having been trying to get out of the city, not in. Nothing growled from within them, but Taehyung couldn’t help but tense as he passed each one, the darkness within their hubs grinning wickedly out at him. Mostly staying to the edge of the bridge, it was only once they came across a car crashed into the concrete barrier that they moved slowly around, further into the center.

A hand darted out to grab at Jin’s arm as he passed the driver’s window, rotted almost to the bone. The man leaped away, just barely stifling his shout of surprise. Taehyung’s hand stiffened around his gun, ready to pull it out at any sign of attack. But the Hungry did not leave the car, only groaned, grasping at the air, its seat belt holding it in place. A deflated airbag rested on its lap, the once white material dark with blood and decayed flesh.

Jin looked back at them uncertainly, before taking a step away from the car, keeping his eyes on the Hungry but continuing to move further down the bridge. Taehyung followed after a few steps, hearing the click of teeth as the Hungry bite the air as he passed, any movement it made accented with a sickening squelching sound. 

The moment Taehyung’s feet once more found themselves on solid ground he inhaled deeply, not having realized how shallow and quick his breaths had been. They all took a moment to compose themselves, Jin kneeling with a hand over his heart as he too calmed his nerves. It was odd; even in other cities they would spare a word or two as they walked, either of directions or when to rest or simply observations. But Incheon had an air to it, insidious, like the city itself was watching them, slowly curling in, breathing down their necks. So they said nothing, not daring disturb the quiet of the slumbering neighborhoods they passed, windows of each house dark.

It was quiet. Too quiet. There had always been Hungries in cities, many of them either wandering aimlessly or standing still in some sort of daze, but they were still there. And yet they encountered none as they drew closer to the park, even though the signs of them were still there. Ghosts of carnage and chaos littered the street: bodies, bones, wreckage of cars and looted stores. It was impossible to tell how many of the bodies had been infected and how many were still human, but it didn’t really matter; they were still dead. 

“There’s nothing here.” Yoongi’s voice was deathly quiet. “Jin, what do you think?”

The man had stopped and was peering across the grounds, river slipping by to his right. “Maybe they cleared all the Units in the area.” He did not sound confident, but Taehyung supposed he had just as good an idea as they did, so he couldn’t blame him. “Let’s just get to the building itself. It should be right up ahead.”

Taehyung couldn’t help but feel watched as he followed Jin onward. A river cut through the land to their right, beyond which skyscrapers stretched into the night air. Dead grass and leaves crunched underfoot as they moved forward, creeping ever closer to the north-most part of the park. Jin’s pace was quick, pulling ahead of them, and Taehyung could feel his urgency, his desperation. He didn’t want to say it, but he knew there was still a chance that Incheon’s lab was no better off than Busan or Gwangju. Sure, it had been secured when Jin had last had communications, but how long ago was that? One month? Two? A lot could happen in that amount of time. 

Ahead, Taehyung could see Jin come to a stop, and squinting in the darkness, realized why. A fence blocked their way, stretching out to either side. Its links were of thick metal, topped with curls of barbed wire that dared anyone to try and climb over. 

He heard Yoongi curse beside him. “We don’t have wire cutters.”

“There must be an entrance somewhere.” Taehyung caught up to Jin, reaching out a hand to feel the cold metal. “The lab is behind this, isn’t it?”

Jin nodded. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they had the whole damn top half of the park circled with this.”

“We’ll just find the gate.”

“How long will that take?” Jin looked up at the sky. Stars still dominated the black expanse of the sky, but Taehyung knew that they were misleading, that they only had an hour or two before sunrise, and he didn’t want to be caught out in the light with no safe place to wait out the day.

“Do you have a better idea?”

Rather than answering, Jin simply huffed, turning and walking along the fence away from the water. Taehyung let his hand bounce along the chain links as he followed, a soft but quick thumping emitting from where his fingers bumped against the metal. He tried to look into the enclosed space as he walked, and though it did not at first seem any different from the outside, he could see tall plants reaching up from the dirt, swaying in the gentle breeze. Crops? He wasn’t going to allow himself to be hopeful.

They reached the edge of the park, greeted with a wide road snuggled between the greenery and the urban landscape of the city, lined with unlit streetlights. The fence had been lined meticulously along the edge of the sidewalk, either bolted to a building or into the ground itself. It turned off the road at the base of another bridge, instead following the waterline of the river that spooned most of the park.

“Here.” Jin stopped near the bridge, where Taehyung could see the fence was slightly different. It still had a messy head of barbed wire, but rather than being attached to the ground it stood on a set of wheels. One of Jin’s hands came up to tug at something attached to the fence, and Taehyung could see the hefty lock in his palm, securing the rolling part of the fence in place.

“We’re locked out.” Yoongi’s tone was disbelieving.

“At least maybe this means the lab is secure,” Taehyung offered, joining Jin to inspect the lock himself. It was bigger than any he had seen, thick metal wrapped stubbornly around the suddenly flimsy seeming fence.

“Yeah, secure on the _inside_. Which we are not.”

“Shush, both of you.” A frown pinched between Jin’s eyebrows, eyes not leaving the metal in his hand as if he could unlock it by will alone. Taehyung could nearly hear him thinking, going over what few options they had. They stake out the gate, waiting until someone came to open it for whatever reason, but there was no telling how long that would take. They could leave and come back during the day, but that held its own sets of risks, and the cities were dangerous enough even under the safety cloak of darkness. There was one last option, but Taehyung thought it too foolish to even consider, reckless and stupid and rash. One look at Jin’s face told him that the man was thinking the same thing.

“You’re thinking we should try to get their attention?” Taehyung’s stomach twisted even at the idea.

“Maybe everyone’s asleep. We could… wake them up.” It was desperation talking, Taehyung knew, but he didn’t confront Jin about it. He was desperate too.

“What if the only thing we wake up is a bunch of Hungries?”

“Then at least we’ll know for sure.”

“What if they think we’re random survivors? What if the think we’re Hungries?”

“I’ll talk to them. I’m sure someone knows who I am.”

“What if they shoot us on sight?” 

Jin had no answer to that one, simply shooting Taehyung a pained look, knowing full well that it was not an outrageous thing to consider. He held his hands up in exasperation, indicating that if Taehyung had any better ideas he was listening. But Taehyung didn’t, all he knew is that none of their current ideas could barely be considered good ones. He was about to bite out a reply when a clang of metal came from beside him, causing him to jump and spin to see what had made the noise.

It was Yoongi, of all things, and after a moment’s pause he rapped his gun against the gate again, shaking it for good measure. The fence rattled loudly, a cacophony of metallic twangs that rang out in the otherwise still night air. 

“Jesus fuck, Yoongi, what are you doing?” Taehyung hissed. 

The man simply raised his eyebrow in answer. “Hello?” His voice was loud, dragging the last vowel far longer than it needed to be. The greeting echoed across the grounds, bouncing off the buildings and road. Taehyung shuddered, not wanting to imagine all the Hungries he could be attracting. His hand migrated to his gun, ready to pull it out at the slightest movement in his peripherals. “Hellooo?” Yoongi called again, jiggling the fence roughly. A quick glance at Jin confirmed that the man looked as uncomfortable as Taehyung felt, but neither interrupted Yoongi, allowing him to continue his abuse of the metal and quiet. “You government fucks better rise and shine we got a country to save.” There was a delirious smile on his face as he spoke, slightly drunken in its nature.

“Hey!” Jin’s voice joined Yoongi’s, surprising Taehyung. “How dare you lock me out! Do you know who I am?” He shook the lock against its restraints. 

One last moment of hesitation, then Taehyung grinned, gripping the fence and jolting it back and forth. Fuck it. “Yo, I did not come all this way to be disrespected! Wakey wakey you assholes!” He threw his head back in abandon, their voices amplifying each other, and Taehyung decided that he didn’t care if every Hungry in the city heard them. Let them come.

After a minute or two they their shouts died down, and as his voice dissipated, Taehyung held his breath, listening for any movement. At first, there was nothing, but then the shadows in the complex seemed to shift, and an array of footsteps pounded into the ground, growing closer. Taehyung resisted the impulse to grasp onto his weapons, knowing that a gun in his hand would do little to help them not get shot at. 

They watched as a squad of six men marched towards them, each armed and donning body armor, and thankfully, alive. Taking a step back from the fence as they drew near, Taehyung shuffled behind Jin, content to let the man do the talking.

“Get back!” The front-most soldier barked out the order, waiting until they had all put distance between them and the gate. “If you attempt to approach the fence again you will be shot.” One of his men clicked on a large flashlight, shining it at their faces. Taehyung grunted, shielding his eyes from the sudden brightness. He could imagine what they looked like; dirty, unkempt, bruised and battered, likely insane. So he wasn’t surprised when he saw the soldier’s mouth twist in disdain. “We are not taking in survivors. Move along.”

Jin scoffed. “I am _not_ just a survivor.” Taehyung was slightly amused at the cockiness in his voice, even if he knew it was likely nothing more than a front. “My name is Kim Seokjin, I was the executive manager and senior coordinator at Busan’s lab of neurology. I would like to speak with someone who actually has authority over what happens here.” He paused for a moment, letting the words soak in. “That means now, grunt.”

After a brief murmuring between the soldiers, one of them broke off, jogging back to the building they had come from. Jin sent Taehyung a smug look over his shoulder, and had he not been lightheaded, Taehyung would have sent him a thumbs-up in return. They waited there for a handful of minutes, the soldiers keeping their eyes and guns trained on the trio. Taehyung felt Yoongi slip his hand back between his own.

The soldier returned with another man, who looked slightly groggy, his hair messy in a way that Taehyung figured either came from too much sleep or lack of it entirely, the latter being the more likely answer. He figured that this base was not ignorant to the timer held over their heads, the stakes of their research, and the man did not have the countenance of someone who had recently discovered the door out their current hell. Jin cleared his throat. “To whom am I speaking to now?”

“My name is Junmyeon, I run this base.” He did not look particularly impressed with them, and Taehyung knew Jin looked as far from a respectable man of science as possible.

“I’m coming from Busan,” Jin explained, seemingly content at the soldier bringing him the top dog right away. “Your lab and mine had been in communications regarding my transfer here to continue research regarding the ADRI virus.”

Junmyeon jaw dropped slightly, eyes wide for just a moment before he regained composure. “It can’t be.” He shook his head. “You were presumed dead. Where are your escorting officers?”

“Dead.” Jin hid the pain behind the word well.

“Who are they?” Junmyeon’s chin jerked towards Taehyung and Yoongi.

“Allies of mine. Stand in escorts, if you want to think of it that way.” Jin shifted his weight slightly, edging slightly further in front of Taehyung. 

Junmyeon’s mouth twisted. “We don’t usually accept non-military or lab personnel. It’s hard enough providing for our current numbers. I’m sure you understand.” He sent them a tight smile. Taehyung’s chest clenched, and he realized suddenly the position they were in. Junmyeon didn’t have to open the gate for them. He could turn and walk away at any moment, leaving them to either be shot down by the guards or simply to fend for themselves on the outside. Taehyung also realized that Jin could leave them, secure safety for himself and shut the door in their faces. What would he be able to do about it? Nothing.

“They are the reason I am here now.” Jin spoke with authority, his voice holding a sense of non-negotiation. He slipped one of his hands behind him and Taehyung grasped it tightly, his lips twitching upwards. “I trust you will treat them as extensions of myself.” He raised an eyebrow, challenging. 

Junmyeon hesitated for a moment more before clearing his throat, clasping his hands together as he yielded. “Yes, of course,” he chuckled. “If we have room for one more I suppose we have room for three. To be quite honest with you, I am in no position to turn away someone of your-” he waved his hand abstractly, “-knowledge and capability. We need the help. As long as they are willing to pitch in, then we can make an exception.”

“Wonderful.” Jin reciprocated the smile. “Now, if you don’t mind,” he nodded at the locked gate, “The four of us aren’t going to do you any good sitting out here.” 

“Four?” Raising an eyebrow, Junmyeon craned his neck, looking for the last person. Jin reached into his pocket, pulling out a small plastic bottle, inside which was a white powder, and shook it enticingly. Taehyung recognized it, and he saw that after a moment Junmyeon did as well, letting out a small gasp. “Jesus, don’t tell me that’s 3113.”

“Appears so.”

“I thought Gwangju went down.”

“I did.” Taehyung could hear the smirk in his voice. “But I wasn’t about to let that stop me. _Us_.” He corrected himself, nodding at Taehyung and Yoongi. “You can thank them for it later. But for now…”

“Yes, yes, certainly.” Any trace of sleepiness was wiped from Junmyeon’s face as he bubbled, ordering one of the soldiers to retrieve the gate key. Once more they waited the few minutes it took the officer to get in and out of the base, but this time it was filled with chatter, Junmyeon expressing just how hopeless their progress- or rather, lack thereof- had been thus far and fawning over how amazing and brave they were. Jin seemed as unaffected by the praise as Taehyung felt.

There was a moment of hesitation when the fence finally slid back, the space between the two groups turned to open air. It seemed false, somehow, hollowing. Taehyung tried to brush it off as mere surrealism, tried to convince himself that their journey had to end at some point, but be it cynicism or mere adaptation to the cruelty of the new world, he couldn’t quite erase the feeling from the back of his mind. Looking at Yoongi, he figured the man felt the same thing, a brief look of confusion crossing his face, as if he too were so used to horrors and sufferings that something going well for them seemed like a cruel joke, and he was waiting for the other boot to drop. 

Jin pulled them forward as he began walking, his footsteps confident. Taehyung felt Yoongi’s hand tighten as they crossed the threshold into the base, shuddering as the gate rattled to a close behind them. 

And maybe it was the click of the lock being snapped back into place, maybe it was the silence that followed, but Taehyung suddenly found himself barking out a laugh, falling to his knees as his body was wracked with the mad cackles. He paid no mind to Junmyeon’s confused look, nor the soldier’s uncomfortable ones, clutching his sides as he slumped onto the grass, curled in on himself, tears brimming in his eyes and spilling over until he was no longer sure if it was laughter or sobs that shook him.

Jin crouched beside him, a steadying hand on his shoulder, and let him laugh and cry until the shudders had subsided mostly into shivers and Taehyung’s eyes were glassy but no longer held the sprouts of new tears. 

Sniffling, Taehyung blinked away the blurriness from his vision, staring up into the great expanse of star-speckled sky, winking down at him, laughing with him, crying with him. And looking to his side, he could see Yoongi looking up at them as well, mouth turned up at the corners. The man’s hand came up to his lips, pausing their briefly before pointing up towards the sky, towards the stars. 

“We made it, baby.” Yoongi’s voice was soft, barely audible, but it thundered in Taehyung’s chest, earthquakes rumbling along the fault lines between his heart and his mind, pounding against his eardrums like a hurricane. 

“We made it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. That is it. My BTS Zombie!AU. It feels like such a short time ago that we started this together, and now I'm already writing the ending notes. 
> 
> I was thiiiiiiiiis close to killing one of them off in this chapter but a) I decided that yall had suffered enough and b) I couldn't figure out which to kill the three of them just felt ~right~ so I didn't. So you get a happy ending from me (a surprisingly rare thing!)
> 
> OKay time for emotions. I actually started to cry a little editing this nfsjifne this fic is like my baby and I get so soft thinking of all the readers that put their trust in me to take them on a journey and supported me with kudos and comments and love. WOW yall are great in crrying. I really sincerely want to thank you all for supporting me I put so much effort into this and I tried to make it the best it could be so you all could laugh and cry and grow with the characters and I know nothing I write is perfect by any means but shit if it made you smile then that's all I can ask for.  
> Looking back at the first few chapters, I realized just how different everyone is by the end of their journey. It makes me so sad seeing the hope and happiness and joy they spend together, unaware of all that is to come, and maybe if any of you decided this fic is worth a reread in the future you'll feel the same way.
> 
> Anyways I just wanted to thank you all again. I know I don't gain anything physical or monetary from writing and posting here, but making you all happy and seeing your comments is payment enough. I love you all, BTS fighting!!!


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